Sunday, November 25, 2007

random stanza 11

cold mallards in the cove
a no-clover one-dove day,
a two sundog day
on the walk to Russia

--from "Laughing Sal Walks to Russia"

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

"shaggy muses"



To paraphrase Emily Dickinson:

"Zinc is dead--will you instruct me now?"

The jumpy pup I rescued from the County pound 12 years ago died suddenly yesterday morning. She was named Zinc because of the unusual metallic color of her fur. Both her eyes were blue and brown, blue on top in one, brown on top in the other. Everyone deserves a Zinc in their lives.

I hope she does not rest in peace. I hope she's animating some heaven somewhere.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

is anybody else sick

of hearing about Barry Bonds?

Friday, November 9, 2007

publication!

The DMQ Review is pleased to announce the release of the Autumn 2007 issue featuring the poetry of R.S. Armstrong, Michael Baker, Chris Crittenden, Andrew Demcak, Brent Goodman, Melissa Holm, Kim Mahler, Rodney Nelson, Larry Rapant, AMY BRACKEN SPARKS, Susan Varnot, Donna Vorreyer, Christine Walsh, and Cyril Wong with artwork by Bob Dornberg.

Check it out.

Saturday, November 3, 2007

small rant

Day of the Dead passed without the usual nod. Am too distracted by not having any heat. Thanks to the friends who have helped me recently (you know who you are).

Got a rejection from an online magazine I really like. They said they "really enjoyed" my submission and suggested I try again. Since it's online, I have no idea if this is their standard rejection notice or if there really was some "enjoyment" when they read the poems. And does that mean they were laughing hysterically? Or a smile crossed their faces before they put it in the "no" pile?

Not so ironically, I'm reading submissions myself, from the slush pile, and enjoying single lines. That's all. I despise narrative poetry. Everyone has a story (or many), that can be told via memoir, photos, fiction, letters, video, performance, text messaging, lectures, oral histories, radio essays, etc. Save poetry for what can't be done elsewhere. Take risks in logic and language. Condense, condense, condense.