I didn't follow up on writing some posts for National Poetry Month in April. I did amuse myself with reading Spring And All
by William Carlos Williams & doing some cut up games with the poems, which I may post here as a "review.'" Coincidentally, some poetry zines arrived in the mail. I had a poem published in a lovely anthology, but that was earlier. I actually wrote a couple of poems. & I googled a number of poets I know to find out what they're doing. Not much. Except for Joe Weil, who has his first book from a quality academic press scheduled for release in September. Painting the Christmas Trees
is coming from Texas A&M University Press; funny this quintessential Jersey poet* is going through a Texas house. But it shows that he's transcended New Jersey, a feat not accomplished as often as one might think given the number of good poets bred in this state who never break the borders. Joe's better than good. He's also teaching a seminar in Ireland this summer, no doubt a dream gig for him. An overnight success he is not; this guy's slogged through a thousand local readings, many where you pass the hat & it doesn't come back with enough to pay for a stop at Dunkin' Donuts on the way home. I suspect he's finally about to cross over into something very special in a literary career; gaining a readership that comes to the poet rather than the poet having to be the supplicant all the time.
*These come in a variety of shapes & sizes, but relatively few qualify.
Labels: about writing
"If a nation expects to be ignorant and free, in a state of civilization, it expects what never was and never will be." Thomas Jefferson