Verfremdung

Sometimes after a poem is published I get the feeling film actors describe about being uncomfortable watching their own performances. It that has little to do with whether or not the poem/performance succeeds, but with being confronted with yourself, and knowing the meeting is taking place in public. This is especially true if I've recorded the poem. Who ever really enjoyed the sound of their own voice?

Editors seem to have awoken from their holiday slumber. In the past two days, I've had a poem accepted by Fugue, two others accepted by The Bakery, and a rejection from Agni. My holiday slumber, on the other hand, continues. But for those who were worried, my calendar arrived. 

Meanwhile I have a short serial prose poem up at Saudade called "Re-Reading Guide to Hardy." I'm a Thomas Hardy fan, and Jude the Obscure is my favorite.