Musings
By Alyce Wilson |
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This morning I wasn't sure what I was going to write about. I thought maybe I would mention the fact that the winter temperatures have returned with a vengeance, a week after it felt like spring. I'm wearing the wool sweater my sister gave me. |
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But then I went to Center City with The Gryphon to get some breakfast and check my Wild Violet post office box. That's when a remarkable thing happened: I found in my post office box a submission from poet Lyn Lifshin. Now to give you a little context, in about 1997, I was looking through the Poet's Market, and one of the things magazines list are people they have published. Lyn Lifshin's name came up again and again. She'd been published, it seemed, by a multitude of publications, so much so that it inspired me to write a poem about it.
So I suppose it's not surprising that she found Wild Violet, perhaps through my bio for the Texas Poetry Journal. It is a big compliment, though, that she felt the magazine was worthy of her attention. I had to laugh when I found the fat envelope in my stack of submissions. She had crammed so many poems, on onionskin paper, into the envelope that she had to tape it shut. This seems to confirm my suspicions that she's a prolific poet. Several of the poems would be suitable for Wild Violet, so I simply need to decide whether I want to run a series or one or two that stand well alone. I certainly couldn't have imagined, back in 1997, that I'd be in a position to receive a poetry submission by Lyn Lifshin. It feels like I've crossed some sort of threshold of literary respectability. So despite
the blustery wind piercing through my gloves as I dictate this into my
mini tape recorder, I'm strangely warm inside.
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Moral: Copyright
2005 by Alyce Wilson |
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What
do you think? Share your thoughts |
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