Another Codependant April


How many of you suffer from ACA?

Unless you’ve been abandoned in the middle of a swamp and surrounded by gators, you’ve probably figured out that it’s National Poetry Month in the States. Hence the reason I’ve come out of hiding. It seems I do this just about every year. April comes around and I get all worked into a tizzy. Publication dreams start surfacing and suddenly I start suffering from delusions of grandeur. I pull out the massive file of inky pages and start thinking  these really crazy thoughts, like:

  •  “There has to be enough poems in here to make a few great chapbooks!”
  • “Maybe I’ll even publish a whole book of poems”

Then I start the long (eventually depressing ) task of filtering through the file and reality sets in. Most of what I’ve written doesn’t pass the first pass. A writer is always their own worst critic. But I find a few really good nuggets. So I lower my expectations down from “books” and instead start thinking about submitting just a few poems.

So the search begins. There must be a few publications still accepting submissions this time of year. After all, IT’S NATIONAL POETRY MONTH! Yeah, okay. Bubble bursts. There aren’t as many as you would think.

Then I narrow out the ones that have requirements I can’t meet without undergoing a complete DNA resequence. Then I narrow out the ones that have thematic requirements. The ones that would require me to live on another coast. Then the ones that want pub credits, resumes, a promise to sacrifice your soul for $20 and I don’t mean they would be paying me either. Seems the money exchange flows the wrong way.

That’s when I find myself wanting to crawl right back down into my hole. I remember why my need to isolate to be productive has less  do with my unwillingness to commune with poetry as it does my unbreakable status.

Yes, I kick and scream for a few minutes. I lose a few precious hairs. Then I realize (as I do every year) that I can finally enjoy the rest of the month. I can go on writing and keep adding to that growing file until next year when I repeat the same codependent pattern. I’m actually okay with that. Seems that although I suffer from ACA (Another Codependent April) I’ve somehow learned to cope.

Happy National Poetry Month, Everybody!





One thought on “Another Codependant April

  1. Yep, and here’s a fine pour of Booker’s bourbon to bite back that ACA and enjoy versifier these remaining vernal diseased days of April.

    Now me, I sweat the World Stage news making incident that drops the curtain on the cur collection I’ve been barking, as the canines of crisis muzzle the moment, and all words retreat in a whimper.

    And in fact, just that happened; remember Boston.

    Anyway, I’m glad happy days are here again…the better to ballad.


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