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Thursday, June 08, 2017

Poems: new online

I've just arrived back from more than a week at the American Antiquarian Society in Worcester, Massachusetts. As but an Alternate Fellow, I was pleased and grateful to be invited.

Meanwhile, some print magazines with my poems arrived, and a few poems popped up in online magazines. Here are links to the online poems at John Wilson's Education and Culture and Karen Kelsay and Jeff Holt's The Orchards.

Print arrivals: requested poems in Trinacria, Artemis. I ought to be  more industrious about sending out. Ought. Somehow am not.


  1. FYI

  2. Thank you, Tim! I'm glad to see some shares and links popping up, as I think the first magazine (being new) is not that easy to find as yet.

  3. And there is this:
    Scroll down a bit and see that Frank Wilson has posted a link to you via my blog. I hope this adds a bit more sunshine.

  4. Thanks! So nice to have more to add to the "Prufrock" newsletter and Facebook and twitter shares--the more the merrier, it is ever said....

  5. "Nancy at the River" strongly evoked for me that powerful scene in Little Jordan (whether intentionally or not). Thanks for the beautiful words, haunting yet hallowed. jk

    1. Oh! I hadn't thought of that at all. So definitely not intentional.... Thanks for coming up with that linkage!

  6. An alternate fellow. The actuality is no doubt mundane and, in any case, the background is academia which I wot not of. But my sense of mischief is not restrained. On which days do you choose to be the alternate of a fellow and how is this manifest?

    Without thinking it through I wondered if the switch was limited simply to a pair of dusty campaign trousers or if you went the whole hog: a chalk-stripe navy-blue three-piece from Grieves of Savile Row topped by a bowler from Lock's (which the French confusingly call a melon and your lot, even more confusingly, call a derby. Which you deliberately mispronounce.)

    And then I realised that an alternate fellow would, of course, be a lady and you'd be wearing something made of dimity. And, perhaps, you'd need lacing up.

    You must realise my ignorance is wilful.

    1. An alternate is normally nothing--a bone with no dimity bow. But in this case it was something, as they invited me anyway. And meanwhile I had gone to Paris in the time I'd saved to go, if I became a fellow. So this is a lonely instance in my life of eating my cake and having it too. I find that rather marvelous.

      I'm afraid the real fellows were not dressed in your fantastic wardrobe. Alas. But I am amused.


Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.