Yes! I like that reading. On the day when the snake gave me the idea for the poem, I was a little lost in ennui. The rattle brought me back to myself in a hurry.
I'll be honest, the vague "something else" made me think the editor read it sexually, and so I went into reading it with that bias, which, I don't think I'd have found had I not read your sub-line, because really it's not there. Or wasn't there. Until my head put it there! :)
I have also only rarely placed my work without some kind of connection (whether I knew it or not) to an editor. Once it was that the editor was also Floridian. Once that the editor was also a Latin nerd who'd learned the same lines of Catullus from the same textbook. More than once a piece was published because the editor actually read it, instead of it being lost in the slush pile, because a mutual acquaintance was willing to call their attention to it. And I have equally capricious stories of denial and betrayal. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
The publishing world is by no means fair, just, or even really meaningful. The meaningful moments emerge almost at random, as when another contributor to the same issue reads your story in their contributor's copy (the only "payment" either of you received) and goes to lengths to find you online just so they can tell you how much they enjoyed your writing. Or when, at a Creative Capital artists' workshop, someone you've never met knows your name, and knows you're "good." Or when, at a workshop for a completely different art form, someone who was expecting something else finds themselves entranced by the way you use words -- a moment of genuine appreciation.
The traditional models of publishing are all garbage. We have something to say, and we want to connect. The rest is noise.
Haha -- I can see how the subtitle might have been misleading in that way. So funny that the poem's title did the same thing for the editor initially. (Unintentional, both times, I swear!)
Really appreciate your larger point at the end. It's true, and yet it's still hard to sort out what a meaningful venue is, and which means of connecting are really satisfying. I've encountered far more of the latter on Substack than I ever did publishing in lit mags. Yet there still is something satisfying about submitting work to a stranger who chooses to amplify it to the world. POETS & WRITERS would have no circulation at all if a majority of us believed the traditional models of publishing were all garbage. It's not that simple for me, even though I must confess that my belief in those traditional institutions is wavering.
Those are good stories about misreading and editor whims, but the poem itself is the best part. I love the dust and the swift focus on the head of the snake, and especially those last two lines. Lovely.
No less talk! 😂 I enjoyed all of it. Keep those poems and sage stories coming! 🙌🌞 But I’m glad you got to come up with the phrase, “Less talk, more rock.” That’s a worthy sentiment. Backstory to a poem is always interesting, but I think I can find some other ways to apply your aphorism myself! 🗿🪨
Fortunately or otherwise I have a lot of experience with rattlers, finding 2-3 annually during the May/June time period. My ranch has single track trails that I can hike with the dogs or mountain bike and I come across them sleeping, scooting across the trail, or just rattling at us from underneath a bush. I’ve had one curious dog catch a strike right between the eyes...actually a good spot cuz he’s really hard headed and it rejected the venom. I lost a little terrier two years ago who went down a burrow after a big one and met his match. The most interesting experience was finding one curled underneath the steps up to my hot tub at 10 pm. 🙄
Evocative poem Josh. I’ve looked a few triangular heads right in the eyes
The trickiest time for wilderness hiking is early morning, before or at sunrise. Rattlers sometimes coil on the trail at night, for heat, and you can step on one if you're not careful. They are often very slow at that hour, so when my trail crew needed an early start, I'd often carry a shovel and just scoop snakes out of the trail as we went. Never more than 2-3 in a morning, but enough to make it worth careful attention!
"Its wedge head held high..." those three H's sound like a rattle...congratulations on The Beloit Poetry Journal...they were the third journal to ever publish me...back in 1988! Yeesh!
Ah, thanks. And very cool that we've shared literary pages (if 20 years apart). Incidentally, I think the first place to publish me (Quarterly West) was also the first venue for George Saunders. Not that I'm in a similar league, but it does speak to how literary journals play an important role in the writing apprenticeship.
Snakes are metaphorically associated with rebirth and transformation. This resonated with me as I read the poem.
Yes! I like that reading. On the day when the snake gave me the idea for the poem, I was a little lost in ennui. The rattle brought me back to myself in a hurry.
I'll be honest, the vague "something else" made me think the editor read it sexually, and so I went into reading it with that bias, which, I don't think I'd have found had I not read your sub-line, because really it's not there. Or wasn't there. Until my head put it there! :)
I have also only rarely placed my work without some kind of connection (whether I knew it or not) to an editor. Once it was that the editor was also Floridian. Once that the editor was also a Latin nerd who'd learned the same lines of Catullus from the same textbook. More than once a piece was published because the editor actually read it, instead of it being lost in the slush pile, because a mutual acquaintance was willing to call their attention to it. And I have equally capricious stories of denial and betrayal. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
The publishing world is by no means fair, just, or even really meaningful. The meaningful moments emerge almost at random, as when another contributor to the same issue reads your story in their contributor's copy (the only "payment" either of you received) and goes to lengths to find you online just so they can tell you how much they enjoyed your writing. Or when, at a Creative Capital artists' workshop, someone you've never met knows your name, and knows you're "good." Or when, at a workshop for a completely different art form, someone who was expecting something else finds themselves entranced by the way you use words -- a moment of genuine appreciation.
The traditional models of publishing are all garbage. We have something to say, and we want to connect. The rest is noise.
Haha -- I can see how the subtitle might have been misleading in that way. So funny that the poem's title did the same thing for the editor initially. (Unintentional, both times, I swear!)
Really appreciate your larger point at the end. It's true, and yet it's still hard to sort out what a meaningful venue is, and which means of connecting are really satisfying. I've encountered far more of the latter on Substack than I ever did publishing in lit mags. Yet there still is something satisfying about submitting work to a stranger who chooses to amplify it to the world. POETS & WRITERS would have no circulation at all if a majority of us believed the traditional models of publishing were all garbage. It's not that simple for me, even though I must confess that my belief in those traditional institutions is wavering.
"the vague "something else" made me think the editor read it sexually"--me too! Yikes!
I seem to succeed at clickbait titles when that is not my intention at all! 😂
Those are good stories about misreading and editor whims, but the poem itself is the best part. I love the dust and the swift focus on the head of the snake, and especially those last two lines. Lovely.
Tara says, "Fewer asides! Less talk, more rock!" 🤣 Sage advice. The poem really is the thing.
No less talk! 😂 I enjoyed all of it. Keep those poems and sage stories coming! 🙌🌞 But I’m glad you got to come up with the phrase, “Less talk, more rock.” That’s a worthy sentiment. Backstory to a poem is always interesting, but I think I can find some other ways to apply your aphorism myself! 🗿🪨
Fortunately or otherwise I have a lot of experience with rattlers, finding 2-3 annually during the May/June time period. My ranch has single track trails that I can hike with the dogs or mountain bike and I come across them sleeping, scooting across the trail, or just rattling at us from underneath a bush. I’ve had one curious dog catch a strike right between the eyes...actually a good spot cuz he’s really hard headed and it rejected the venom. I lost a little terrier two years ago who went down a burrow after a big one and met his match. The most interesting experience was finding one curled underneath the steps up to my hot tub at 10 pm. 🙄
Evocative poem Josh. I’ve looked a few triangular heads right in the eyes
The trickiest time for wilderness hiking is early morning, before or at sunrise. Rattlers sometimes coil on the trail at night, for heat, and you can step on one if you're not careful. They are often very slow at that hour, so when my trail crew needed an early start, I'd often carry a shovel and just scoop snakes out of the trail as we went. Never more than 2-3 in a morning, but enough to make it worth careful attention!
"Its wedge head held high..." those three H's sound like a rattle...congratulations on The Beloit Poetry Journal...they were the third journal to ever publish me...back in 1988! Yeesh!
Ah, thanks. And very cool that we've shared literary pages (if 20 years apart). Incidentally, I think the first place to publish me (Quarterly West) was also the first venue for George Saunders. Not that I'm in a similar league, but it does speak to how literary journals play an important role in the writing apprenticeship.
Yes, those early publications gave me such hope!
This has the feel of a Haiku, condensed and startling. Maybe a city dweller just can't take this journey.
Thank you, Karen! I suspect that there are similar awakenings in the city, but you're probably right that there is no substitute for raw wildness.