This evening I began the work of researching poetry journals for submission. I also put all of my work on this site into draft mode while I'm shopping my stuff around. I don't need a repeat of PHIL 205G.
Bobby Driscoll's been sent on his way.
It's interesting to me the detached nature of this process; an I-couldn't-care-less casting off of the babes that only a month or so ago were so dear to my heart. (Of course that allusion was intended. As if...)
I'm wondering about chapbooks; the bonafide sort, as opposed to self-publishing/binding. And I'm wondering where to send the Vegan Princess. How does one search for "snarky-assed responses to famous punk-assed poets" as a genre? I'm following Mr. Robbins on Tumblr. Perhaps I should just ask him what he thinks. Anonymity's a lovely thing when it comes to impertinence.
Oh, yes. And I'm considering hanging out at the Pie Tin longer than anticipated to wedge in 16 credits of French needed for a BA. I've got BS down pat, and most grad programs expect a second language other than Sailor.