Tim Green posted a link to an essay in VQR written by Erik Campbell, which I recommend everyone read. Erik is funny and most importantly, unpretentious. He tackles the subject of plagiarism in all of its forms.
I sent out two submissions last week, one to APJ and one to Ghoti. I also inquired about my submission to The Hat, but have not received a response, yet. I tend to think that the longer a submission is out, the less chance one has of publication in that journal.
I want to write a poem but I’m really bad with beginnings.
Movies I’ve Seen Lately:
The Devil’s Playground
I’m glad Martin finally won but I have to admit to not liking The Departed as much as his other films. I haven’t seen all of them but my favorite, so far, is Mean Streets. I feel like The Departed didn’t have that Scorsese stamp. Where was the amazing musical score??!! The only person in the entire movie who had a personality was Leo. I felt nothing for any of the other characters – I had no idea who they were, even if it was a lie. And the girl sleeping with both Leo and Matt was foreshadowed so heavily that it was a major let-down. Ah well.
The Devil’s Playground was recommended to me by a friend, and I wasn’t impressed after seeing it. The problem is that the documentary didn’t know exactly what it wanted to do and, I believe, became something that it didn’t intend to become at all. Which is ok with a lot of documentaries, it happens a lot BUT in this instance it became just another documentary about drug use. And not a very interesting one. The crux of the problem lies in the fact that the Amish people are against being filmed. The documentary ended up focusing mainly on one boy’s struggle (again, a very uninteresting one) but you can tell by watching it that, that wasn’t its intention – but because the makers of the film couldn’t get enough Amish footage, that’s what the documentary became. I saw a lot of opportunities to delve into other characters and situations but the makers didn’t take advantage of it. There was no real “religious” struggle in the teens – no philosophical contemplation – it ended up becoming a decision between comfort or chaos as opposed to belief or non-belief. (which arguably, could be the same thing).
Would anyone like to explain to me what the “arc” in a chapbook is?
Here’s a picture I took on the Blue Ridge Parkway – I like to call this one The Blue Tree. =)
Poem – Draft 1 (all comments and suggestions are appreciated)
To Begin Again
One ending becomes the next
and the next, like baby birds flying
past my porch on the first day
of spring, their trip
from Florida or somewhere
where heat proves perpetual
in so many ways. Where I am now
becomes just another town
after the next one and the one
after that. Trees,
my only constant. I replace
human beings for barked
backs and arms unafraid
of shedding and routine. Yet
I swear-off the seasons
rip sweaters from my shoulders
mid-winter when those same trees
strip down, bare-bodied,
an offering of intimate embrace.
When summer arrives
and staying turns
into remaining, I ball into afghans:
yarn my grandmother threaded
through her fingers warms me
as if I was once
folded inside her belly
instead of my mother’s.
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