Little Emerson

23 June 2005

Taste – Yum, Ugh!

cronus
Goya's Thanksgiving Dinner

A poet I once knew, now dead, like all good poets, said that she knew he liked a poem by the way the paper on which it was printed tasted. She actually licked paper, then he would turn towards the mirror in the dresser and would stare for hours at her tongue.

She rejected poems by the way they tasted. An unfair approach no doubt, but one that he felt totally comfortable with. “How else to reject?,” she would say. It was all a matter of spice yesterday, salt today, deep hunger tomorrow.

Thus far the editors of Little Emerson have come up with empty stomachs. Thank goodness for the qualifier “little” before Emerson, as expected. Over twenty submissions and nothing, nil, zilch. A lovely, demanding group. That is not to say that some have not approved. Tongue to paper they said “yes”, though rarely and altogether occasionally. The most votes any poem got: four out of nine, thus far. Is this sad? True? Fair? Are all of these folks simply overstuffed? This one is yummy. Or not. But it just so happens that, despite hunger, not all like vanilla ice cream for dessert. Shit! Not all like ice cream at all. Rare. Rare, indeed, like Cronus' meat.

7 Comments:

  • I'm a little worried that Little Emerson might be Nonexistent Emerson. Maybe I should send some of my mighty mighty works of poesie.

    By Blogger L. Trent, at Fri Jun 24, 03:39:00 am  

  • Disturbing post, Alberto. But beautiful too.

    Gina

    By Blogger gina, at Fri Jun 24, 04:41:00 am  

  • Dear L.,

    I think we ought to be patient. Like searching for the Holy Grail or something equally sublime or equally funny, depending on perspective. I sense I’ve upset some of L.E.’s editors, which wasn’t my intention, but I can understand how some may think I throw stones and hide my hand. But how else to update L.E. with a little something?

    Regarding your double mighty works, sure, send them in. I can assure you that the editors maintain a hard standard.

    Thanks.

    By Blogger A.R.B., at Fri Jun 24, 10:49:00 am  

  • Dear Gina,

    Oh, why disturbing? I needed to use the Goya painting for something. Now that’s disturbing. Beautifully disturbing. Rejections are not disturbing. They are only part and parcel of the poetry game. I think, in defense of L.E.’s editors, that they are maintaining a very high standard and, most importantly, I think they are being quiet sincere. I’ve no qualms about that. I might have disturbed some of them with this post. But c’mon, where’s our poetic and tragic sense of humor?

    Thanks for stopping by.

    By Blogger A.R.B., at Fri Jun 24, 10:57:00 am  

  • Oh, disturbing in a good way. I think I conflated the Goya and your post on eating poetry with something else recently in my head, something James Marsters (Spike of "Buffy") said about the vampire being nothing more than a metaphor for hunger, and that hunger is as manageable as fear. He was being optimistic. I was thinking your post says something much the same for your editors' project. Optimism in the face of Cronus.

    Gina

    By Blogger gina, at Fri Jun 24, 09:41:00 pm  

  • Or in the case of the picture, in the mouth of Cronos...

    By Blogger Neil, at Sat Jun 25, 06:59:00 pm  

  • That's right, Neil, but beyond the mouth is raw hunger.

    Alberto

    By Blogger A.R.B., at Tue Jun 28, 03:21:00 am  

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