I’m very happy to have heard from Ann Kestner, founder and editor at Poetry Breakfast, accepting my work and advising me that my poem The Daily Grind will be published on January 2nd.
It’s always a pleasure working with Poetry Breakfast. Their turnaround time for submissions is always short (in my case always under a month, occasionally under a week, and–once–less than two days). Their presentation is crisp, focused, and (above all) very high quality, day in and day out. And I’ve been pretty lucky getting stuff accepted & published there: my acceptance rate is about 1 in 3.
At any rate, I hope you’ll join me for coffee right after New Year. I’ll post something to remind you then, Okay?
Meanwhile, lots of other good stuff at POETRY BREAKFAST.
I hate the fact that the allegedly “festive holiday season” has to always be kicked off with this, one of my saddest realities:
John Winston Ono Lennon
He put on his lullaby music right after SNL’s Weekend Update and slept soundly until almost 8AM.
Who the hell is that guy?
BONUS: Just before waking up there was this really cool dream about being the only one to escape food poisoning from the sautéed mussels & shrooms they served at a midnight party in the woods, thrown to celebrate the fullest moon ever. He felt bad for all the other party-goers, but he had to admit the mussels were delicious and the shrooms made the moon even fuller.
(Two Sixes For Trump’s Carrier “Save”):
But Who’ll Pay All Those Taxes?
And What About All Those Layoffs?
(Or, In A Less Political Vein):
I’ve Got Shit To Do Today
If Only The Body Would Cooperate
Six is Call Me Cate‘s favorite number at: SHOW MY FACE
(It’s The Season Of “Gifting” Again, but…)
Note: “Gift” Is Not A Verb
The act of
gifting giving is a kindness.
One should always
gift give from the heart.
Almost anything may be
Want to seem gifted? Use the language properly.
Call Me Cate collects more sixes at: SHOW MY FACE
I know I’ll have at least one thing published next year anyway…
I’ve received notice from M Scott Douglass, editor at Main Street Rag Publications, that one of two pieces I submitted for an upcoming anthology has been accepted for publication.
My poem “So Much Depends Upon A Red Wig” will appear in a fast food-themed anthology to appear “sometime in the fall” of 2017.
The poem originally appeared 15 years ago in the (now defunct) Higginsville Reader.
It’s always good to have something to simultaneously look back at and forward to, eh?
There I was again in that same ruined acropolis of
semisleep at almost four, unable to either breathe or
stop breathing, shamed by both my missing vision
and my total inability. There I was without you,
without even a fragment, in a darkened cell without
a phone and without a clue, without a map or even a
sense of direction.
………………………And playing the usual lullabies
or reciting the list of four-syllable words, even the
made-up ones, was no help; even wrapping myself
under the usually comforting layers of white fleece.
Nothing would turn the invisible switch; nothing
would put an end to the sad, interminable wait for
whatever I have fooled myself into expecting, given
the history of what I usually fail to create.
if I could, even if I could somehow capture bliss
—or even if I could only sleep—none of it would matter
without you here to share it with me tonight.