Aug 14, 2023·edited Aug 14, 2023Liked by Joshua Doležal
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.
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.
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
"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!
Snakes are metaphorically associated with rebirth and transformation. This resonated with me as I read the poem.
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.
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.
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
"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!
This has the feel of a Haiku, condensed and startling. Maybe a city dweller just can't take this journey.