My poem, “A Lot of Nothings,” is live at wildness. Many thanks to editor Michelle Tudor for supporting my work over the years.
Poem Up at Wildness
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Monthly Archives: August 2024
Stephanie L. Harper’s Poems in The Iowa Review
Stephanie L. Harper, my spouse, my partner-in-life, my love, my inspiration, my editor, my everything, has two poems in the latest edition of The Iowa Review. This is THE BIG TIME! The list of writers published in the pages of this major journal include the likes of Jorge Luis Borges, Anne Carson, Louise Gluck, Jorie Graham, Kurt Vonnegut, and many, many others we can only hope to emulate. Now Stephanie’s rubbing (metaphoric) elbows with them. I am so proud of Stephanie and so happy for her, because I know, I’ve seen, how hard she’s worked at her craft. One of the two poems illustrates this commitment to the art: “Pelvic Organ Prolapse” is an “in-titled” poem. Created by Stephanie, this form is composed exclusively of the letters appearing in its title, with no letter occurring within any individual word in the poem more times than it does in its title. To say the least, it is a maddening form to attempt. But here it is, within the pages of The Iowa Review!
Poems Live at Hibiscus
My poems “Barstow,” “Even the Darkness,” and “As If We Understand the Tree” are live at Hibiscus https://www.hibiscusmag.com/the-poetry-vase. Thank you, editor Jackie Bluu, for taking these pieces.
I’m Still Here (the celebration continues)
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In April 2023 I was diagnosed with late stage metastatic lung cancer. The cancer had spread to the lymphatic system, the brain, the liver and the pelvis (actually fracturing bone). The large lung mass was also responsible for partially paralyzing my vocal cords, in addition to affecting the heart, resulting in the implantation of a pacemaker. While the prognosis (not good—it’s terminal) and timing (uncertain) remain unchanged, I feel much better than I did when first diagnosed.
All this is to say that I admit to being surprised (though grateful) at my ongoing existence.
And I continue celebrating this persistence, despite certain setbacks. Lately, food has not appealed to me. Oh, I’m still eating, but food has become fuel rather than edible joy. I’m the guy who gets excited about red pepper paste, about finding mayacoba beans or za’atar seasoning on grocery shelves. Several months ago Stephanie and I were meandering (but not in a mazy motion, as in Coleridge’s Kubla Khan), in between medical appointments, the aisles of a store when I spotted a treasure. “Ooh, cornichons,” I exclaimed in my outdoor voice. I grabbed a jar, and babbled on, as I do, about how I needed them to make Julia Child’s potato salad. Stephanie looked amused, because, well, she’s used to my food enthusiasms. The potato salad was excellent, by the way.
But for the past six weeks or so, I seem to have lost this enthusiasm. Nothing has appealed to me. Or if it appealed to me before I started cooking, by the time I pulled it out of the oven, I no longer wanted it. Except last weekend, a brownie recipe slipped into my email inbox, and I simply, absolutely, inevitably, needed brownies. So I baked them. Dark chocolate, a smidgeon of espresso powder, chopped walnuts. THE BEST EVER! Perfect crust, crunchy exterior, moist, soft interior. Yum. It appears that my food enthusiasm isn’t entirely moribund. Perhaps I’ll become a baker. Maybe not.
But as this is a poetry blog, I should mention something about poetry. During the past year, knowing that my time is limited, and that if I want my poems to be published, I must send them out, I assembled several manuscripts: a couple of chapbooks, a micro-chapbook, and a second full-length book. The long and short of it is that within the next year, I’ll have had published, by five separate publishers, two full-length books, two chapbooks and one micro-chap. After so many years of accumulated rejections, this level of success is unprecedented. And very welcome! Something to celebrate! If only there were brownies…
O at the Edges 