Tag: Hayley Mitchell Haugen

October and All Its Finery

Gosh, peeps, we’re knee-deep into October and on the occasion the skies clear, it shines around here, as bright as Rihanna’s song, “Diamonds.” Case in point, the sun’s slow descent to the horizon this very evening. See photos below, both taken from my writing desk.

I spent the morning submitting poetry to various publications and their calls for this or that. I also wrote up an application for a $500 writing grant possibility. I’m not sure what my chances are of being awarded such a gift, but I certainly have some ideas on how to use it this winter. First, I’d like to order a Little Free Library for my front yard to assemble and install, only, I’d name mine the Little Free Poetry Library. I’d go wild in its kit design and colors, maybe even install a tiny disco ball from the interior ceiling. First and foremost, I’d love to stock it well with the work and words of northern poets before moving onto the equally beautiful work and words of poets from Outside. Such a Little Free Poetry Library would certainly require its own Instagram page, just to keep everyone abreast of stock. My neighborhood can be tricky to find without a proper street sign.

The poet George Franklin served as guest editor for the Volume 9.1 Fall Edition of Sheila-Na-Gig. His curating is exemplary and I’ve enjoyed tiptoeing my way through the various submissions this season, akin to the speed of fall coming on. If you get a chance to read, please do so. Beautiful writing all around. And I’m both humbled and grateful to have a couple of poems included: “Cosmic Harvesting” and “This Is Not a Love Poem.” Thank you to George for including these summertime writings. I’m humbled and grateful when my work lands among the poets and pages of Sheila-Na-Gig. In fact, I’m happy to be part of this publishing family of poets with my own collection, Curating the House of Nostalgia (2020).

An additional note of interest as it relates to Sheila-Na-Gig, I offer a huge shout-out to Sheila-Na-Gig publisher Hayley Mitchell Haugen’s generosity. Books published by this press in 2022 and 2023 will be on display in New York City at the Poets House 28th annual Poetry Showcase. Curating the House of Nostalgia will be among them. A copy of each book will be on display facing frontwards for attendees to browse. Thank you, Hayley, for your above and beyond support of SNG poets! I’ve never been to New York City, but I’d love to be there in this moment to visit Poets House and browse all the offerings there.

The sun bright in my eyes, I set writing aside when the afternoon beckoned me out to the yard. There I cut back my raspberry patch, pruned the Japanese Maple, and cleared the porch of summer plants and pots. I hauled four leaf bags of clippings out to the overflow and feel pretty good about this first step in putting the yard to bed for winter. And of course, the drive yielded all kinds of sights: Humpback whales, migrating swans, snow creeping closer on the mountains.

October delights. Enjoy every moment.

Sun taking a slow dip this afternoon.

The later view from the writing desk here at home.

Gary Glauber’s Collection of Poems, Inside Outrage

In the last breath of September, it was my pleasure to attend and celebrate Gary Glauber’s new collection of poems, Inside Outrage (Sheila-Na-Gig Editions, 2022).  He read beautifully via Zoom.  His selected poems touched upon an array of topics:  Love, Mr. Rogers, teaching, poetry, civil justice at Starbucks.  It was the perfect antidote to the drumming of the atmospheric river and wind pummeling the windows outside, allowing me to disappear inside, into words for an hour that passed too quickly this afternoon.

With a shelved and bespectacled Homer Simpson over one shoulder and a guitar over the other, Glauber began his reading with his poem, “Blocked,” one he explains celebrates a lifetime of poetry.  The poet reminds readers, “Let us celebrate the infinity / of our limited mortality…” It is also one that considers time and the travel of, the “…inestimable unknowable” that is “much like a poem.”

A teacher, just one of his many career hats, some of his poems explore education, from setting to art.  “Learning to Read” and “Have You Graded the Essays, Yet?” are both essential explorations of educational experience from knowing both sides of the desk.  The latter, especially, is relatable, right down to the red pen and the questions even my own high school students ask, “Why don’t we read / anything with a happy ending?” and “Do we need an introduction / and a conclusion?”  Here, too, the speaker contemplates student immunity to the very changes his red pen marks, the indication of editing ahead, and proceeds to muse that for students, “Writing / is a lost art, along with reading.”  We can all hope not.

There are so many reminders in his poetry of what is to be human and the lessons we’re all bound to learn one way or another. Glauber’s collection is one to savor, and add to the keeper shelf for future returns.

Cover art by Loree Harrel, Digging a Hole in Tomorrowland