With the Southern Review's rejection behind me, I'm looking ahead to my next beat down. As I mentioned earlier, Poetry magazine claims that they are reviewing only poets they haven't published before (now through August), so I'm thinking of sending them a batch. I know my chances are low, so I also hope to send a second group out at the same time, perhaps to Beloit Poetry Journal.
In the meantime, I've sent my loyal readers three more drafts to look over and comment on. I'm interested to see their reactions, as the poems are something of a departure from the work I've done in the past.
And in the more immediate meantime, it's Monday, and I'm having trouble getting anything going. It occurred to me earlier that writing poetry is like surfing;* you paddle out into the depths of language and test the incoming swells until you find one that can bring you roaring to shore. Some days the waves are lousy, or you just can't catch them. No surprise that Monday should be one of those days....
* For those keeping track, I have also previously claimed that writing poetry is like painting shadows or making useless pottery. You probably should not pay too much attention to what I say on the matter.