My poem “When I Was Alive” just came out in Jackdaw Review . Here it is:
And here is a link to the entire Summer issue. It’s beautiful:
And a few weeks ago my poem In Brooklyn was published in South Florida Poetry Review:
Here’s the link to the entire issue. It’s terrific. https://www.southfloridapoetryjournal.com/
You’re invited to the quarterly reading at 6:30 PM Central on 8/21/25. I’ll be reading a few poems along with other contributors.
https://us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/4CQzMBCKS2ip3CePtRJ-kg
I’m also excited to announce I’ll have poems out soon in Odd Pocket and Molecule.
Submitting poems is a lot of work and there are many rejections for each acceptance. When my book was accepted for publication in 2025, I didn’t know I could continue to submit the poems in the book and then acknowledge the magazine or anthology later, during the galley stage. I have mixed feelings about this mistake because what it means is, many of the poems in my book didn’t have a chance to go on any trips, before they stayed put.
On the other hand, I revel in mistakes- the anatomy of mistakes. If even the concept of mistakes on its own is interesting, than everyone’s mistakes are interesting. I wonder what led to a particular mistake. I wonder what assumptions have to do with the making of mistakes? How do I recognize a mistake, learn from a mistake, and reduce the chances of making the same mistake again and again? Can certain mistakes be addictive? Maybe I’m compelled to make the same mistake over and over? Have I told you that the title of my manuscript of selected plays and monologues is “Fascinating Mistakes?” I just like how mistakes are metaphorical steaks. They give you meat to chew on. Stakes too- for tomato vines and also for tents. Maybe the stakes of our mistakes function as a central pole of humanity? Maybe mistakes are some of the best places for claim staking. Either way, my mistake taught me that when I try to follow rules, I may be following rules that are not even rules at all.
Last weekend at the I exact moment I stepped out on the balcony to look at my plants, a big herd of bicycles arrived. And then I heard, “Oh, Hi Mom!” It was my son Ruben with their Fems and Thems Bike Club. Ruben knew they’d be stopping somewhere around this area, but not that it would be exactly in the back of the building I live in!
Then, someone flew a kite. Someone told me these kites are supposed to look like squids, but I like to call them Rapunzel Kites:
At the end of last month, I drove to Iowa to participate in a writing intensive focused on picture books. It was excellent. Also, the retreat place had a cool labyrinth.
How is your summer going? Good, I hope. On this summer day of my life, my friend Andy told me about wombats. They told me that during wildfires in Australia wombats invite all creatures into their dens. No kidding. Wombats invite birds, kangaroos, koalas, you name it. Everyone is welcome. Their dens are veritable Noah’s style arks on land. Andy said wombat butts are hard and bony and so they push their bony butts against the opening of the den like a door-creating a fire safe zone. Not only that, sometimes wombats get their butts burned or even die. They are naturally altruistic. They won’t move their asses for nothing. Take from that what you will. I just thought you might like to know about the butts of wombats today and their kindness.
buymeacoffee.com/BarrieCole
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