and

And I missed the deadline. Contributing factors include:

  • Timezones – if you’re planning to submit poetry to a magazine in the UK, well, May 29 there doesn’t end at the same time there as it does here
  • Weather – it was really really nice outside and so I read a book in a chair in the sun rather than cleaning up piece #3 that I wanted to submit
  • Friends – had dinner with friends rather than cleaning up piece #3 that I wanted to submit
  • House – did useful stuff re: planning the remodel rather than … yeah, that.

I did learn some things though, namely:

  • Clearly, submitting these pieces to this issue wasn’t my P0 (ie, highest priority) – I had plenty of things I could have chosen not to do, that I did, and therefore I didn’t do the writing. As my mother says my grandmother said, you do what you want to.
  • I can write really fast when I think I’m on deadline. When I finally did clean up piece #3, on a plane just a few minutes before what I thought was on time… wow, that was fast. And the results are pretty good. I’m happy with how it came out.
  • I also found another poem inside a longer piece I’d written years ago. That was cool.

So. I didn’t make the deadline, I didn’t send things off to this particular thing, but … I did stuff. It’s stuff I’m pretty happy with. Okay.

#amwriting

I’m pulling together 3 poems, a bio, and a cover letter to submit to a magazine I like to read. I’m down to 5 poems, one of which needs massive editing and is really more of a prose-poem than a pure poem but might be incredibly funny when I finish it. Fun of writing vs lure of procrastinating vs difficulty of choosing. Two of the poems are similar in tone and structure; are they a tone and structure that this magazine will find compelling? They’re a little more dense in construction than most of what it publishes. On the other hand, I think they’re good. And they fit the theme. But then… maybe better odds of success if I submit three things with more variety. Three things to submit is not very many! How to choose, how to choose?

These streets


These streets
These streets begin to seem like the end of the world.
With a backlit sky and torn-up cobblestones
we dress in suits and heels to go to dinner
sweating gently in leftover heat
while a gravel voice plays on the radio

‘For rent’ scribbled on empty storefronts hints
what might have been.
The ice cream on the corner has a line around the block.
Two boys on bicycles hop the curb, first on then off.
Condensation drips down fire escapes from air conditioners above
and a lean-muscled woman with tan summer hair
curves her fingers around one last hazy cigarette.