Image of the Day: Dappled sunlight checkerboarding the asphalt on a side road in Boston.
Lots of rejections lately. Lots. And I'm pretty sure more to come! But I've been trying to just shove those rejections right back out the door, so to speak, to different places. At least plenty of journals are open and available to submissions.
But on a very happy note, Kathleen Kirk, editor at Escape Into Life, has a very nice review of my chapbook, Her Vena Amoris, that you can read here.
Also, I have some poems here at IthacaLit you can read, if you'd like.
by Sarah Rose Nordgren
It's not right that she should do this
to her body as she speaks,
but it's the only way we can understand her.
We who weren't raised on sand
and cherry-pits. Whose stepfathers
held their tempers.
The South is a mean place
we forget about. The windows
boarded up all over town. She says,
dogs chased her down the tar-
soaked road like devils. Each dog with three
heads, three tails. She says,
we might've mocked her story,
but never now. First, she strikes nails
against her chest like matches.
Then, when we think we can't
take more from her, she eats
her own hands. Who are we now
to say that art should not destroy us?
From Verse Daily