I have a poem called "Beekeeping" in the debut issue of Stillwater Review.
It's a new publication from Sussex County Community College that I noticed
from paying attention to Diane Lockward, a great poet whose blog is as helpful
and informative as anyone's.
In more literal accidents, I recently crashed my car on the way home from work
Fortunately, I'm pretty much okay (just sore, inconvenienced, and lacking some cash).
So I was aching and trembling with all that extra adrenaline, while waiting for the tow truck
on the side of the road and my phone started buzzing.
Is it the tow truck driver? The insurance company? No. It's an email notification
delivering a rejection note for some poems that I had sent out eleven months ago.
This was the month, the day, the moment that they finally needed
to send back their decision?
Et tu, Baltimore Review? Et tu?