A POST FOR MY BLOG

Look for websites that will like your work,

I tell my writing students. You can be accepted in the

afternoon

and published the next morning.

That’s happened to me, I tell them.

.

Isn’t technology wonderful? I hope some day

to make a movie with my car’s back-up camera.

I’ll tell my life’s story backwards, since going forwards

gets into scary unknown territory.

.

In the old days you sent your typescript off

and waited several months for rejection or acceptance

(“simultaneous submissions” weren’t allowed,

so you were supposed to wait to hear).

.

If accepted, it took months till whoever they were

found the money to print a few hundred copies

of a journal that no one you knew

ever heard of or saw.

.

In moments now, a hundred clicks around the world

can happen, sometimes a thousand—if you’re lucky,

a million. You can share the post yourself,

and everyone you know will know it’s there—

.

what you thought, what you were inspired to say,

what you wrote. Damn, that’s fun. It’s impressive,

I tell myself.

.

But wait: no one will climb into an attic

and find a dust-covered magazine some day,

.

wondering why that ancestor—you—bothered to save it,

and carefully turning the crumbling pages will find it—

your poem, story, memoir. Sad to think about.

.

Meanwhile,

I’ll get this ready for posting this afternoon.

 

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One comment

  1. Ain’t it the motherfucking truth?

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