At this time of year, one is apt, whether advisable or not,
to reflect upon the year gone past. As the
17th century Japanese poet Soin says in haiku:
yuku toshi ya
tsuredatsu mono wa
nani to nani
Well, if you’re like me & most Americans, then you really
don’t know Japanese, despite tattoos to suggest otherwise, but you do know the only kind of analogies that make any
kind of sense are sports analogies, so you’ll understand when I say that, in a
way, the Cleveland Browns season mirrored 2014 for me. Believe it or not, the Browns were actually in first
place in their division come mid-season & as November rolled around, their 7-4
record boded well for the playoffs.
Similarly, I'd published a good number of poems throughout the first half of last year & things were looking up. Would this be
the year that my “wonderfully witty,” “tightly-crafted,” “funny & smart”
book manuscript, a finalist & semifinalist at several highfalutin presses,
finally found a publisher?
Sadly, the Browns finished the season on a five game losing
streak to once again sink to the bottom of the AFC North & my book, even
though I received complimentary letters about my collection, ran into a virtual buzz-saw
of rejections that made me question whether I’d made a huge mistake all those years ago when I'd dedicated my life to poetry. If so, at my age, it's far too late to change course now even if I wanted to. To be fair, it's not my view of poetry, but rather my opinion of certain other poets, who'll remain nameless here, that has changed & not in a good way.
However, just as the
long-suffering Browns fan—is there any other kind?--will eventually evoke the names of Hall
of Famers like the late Otto Graham & the great Jim Brown to summon hope, in
December, Subprimal Poetry Art published
“One Night,” a poem from my first book, Nearing
Narcoma, as if to say, “Wait ‘til next year!”
2015 is off to a good start. On the very first day of the year, my team—THE Ohio State University—beat Alabama in the Sugar Bowl to earn the right to play for college football’s national championship. Ezekiel Elliot’s 85 yard run for a TD—which, I swear to fucking God, I called just seconds before—solidified the Buckeye victory.
Also on January 1,
my sonnet “Like Francois Villon” appeared in Utter.
An auspicious
sign? Who knows? Maybe the Buckeyes will beat the Ducks &
win their first national championship since 2003--the same year Nearing Narcoma won the Main Street Rag
Poetry Prize. Maybe this will be THE year
for me, too.
With thanks to the editors of not only these two magazines, but of each & every magazine that's published my work, as well as to those who in the future may, here’s hoping the
new year is not like Ramasses III, enemy of the Sea Peoples, but rather Ramasses II, which is to say, great!
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