Day 8

Oh, Friday.

I talked with a good friend recently about my frustration over my lack of acceptances lately. I haven’t had anything accepted for awhile now; I have lots of stuff out. It’s painful and disheartening, especially when I have received incredibly supportive feedback and encouragement from wonderful poets who are not journal editors but teachers. My friend and I discussed the idea of gender and how it relates to poetry and publishing, and how my poems tend to have a feminine sensibility. She suggested that perhaps my poems are not finding homes because the feminine perspective is not finding a receptive audience in some of the male editors. That the voice is too entirely situated in the feminine, which makes it not universal enough. (For the record, she applied a similar circumstance to her own poems.)

Is this true? Who knows. Who will ever know. Is there even a way to tell?

In the meantime, I would rather write a million poems from my own perspective about things that I think are important and relevant than try to affect a voice that isn’t authentic.

Rachel’s Day 8 Poem: To the Boy Who Called Me a Cunt From the Window of His Bus This Morning
Someone Else’s Poem: Dean Young’s “Red Glove Thrown in Rose Bush”

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