I'm alive. No crabgrass death for me. No, I'll die a slow death of deferred promise in debtor's prison. Now that Bush has signed the new bankruptcy bill into law, the poor house will no longer be a metaphor. All this is about the job I may not have next year. I'm pretty sure I have the opposite of the midas touch--everything I touch turns to pennies. Not even full-copper pennies; regular old nickel-plated ones. For instance, I found out I would only be paid half as much in May as I had thought. This is fine, since Erik worked 42 hours overtime in Las Vegas. But still, I'm turning into a money pit. We'll blame the baby. Now is a good time to start.
I was also looking, happily for Quarterly West and for most of my publications, at http://www.jefferybahr.com/Publications/PubRankings.asp I think his justifications for his rankings are ethical and interesting, but I doubt Missouri Review is less renowned than, say, Callalloo. But long-runningness plays into the rankings, which explains a lot of his partular system.
What are magazines I'd give some of my pennies to get in to?
Why these? They seem so elusive & cool. I'm hoping the Drunken Boat picks up one of my poems. They're weird AND cool.
And, last rant, related to this post only via the massive amounts of crabgrass that I lamented first: Why do people think sunny weather is "good" and rainy weather "bad." It's so prejudiced. Jeff Chapman and I were discussing this dumb weather categorization. I say, to be contrary, that wet, cloudy weather is best--it's darker so you can sleep in, there's more water for your plants, driving is more fun, and it's better for your skin. And it's cooler. I'm in a bit of a panic about how hot it's going to get.......
And for that matter, perhaps crab grass is just grass should be left to grow.