SUBMISSION POLICY
Poetry (any form or style) and Micro or Flash Fictions wanted for an anthology on SMOKE. Not just the black clouds rising from the five-alarm fire next door, or the billowing plumes of smoke warning us of a forest fire, or the emissions from factory smoke stacks, apartment house incinerators, and crematoriums, smoke rings rise from cigarettes, smoke pours out of headshops, pipe shops & cigar stores--see that purple haze rising over the fields of poppies and marijuana we just planted--we've used it to communicate via smoke signals and skywriting, to cover our tracks and disappear with and without mirrors, combat the enemy on and off the battlefield, kill bugs, flavor food, cure illness, declare peace treaties, and fragrance our homes. Got the idea? Release it onto the page.
Guidelines: Submit up to three poems/micro fictions or two flash fictions at a time with a fascinating bio of 35 words or less, not just limited to publication credits, copy/pasted in the body of an e-mail (no attachments, please) to roxy533 at yahoo dot com & violetwrites at nyc dot rr dot com. We will also entertain up to six one-liners or 2 short stand up routines at time. Previously published work is OK as long as authors have retained the copyright, which will be returned to them after publication. Simultaneous submissions are encouraged. If your work is accepted elsewhere, and you still have obtained rights to republish, just let us know where and we'll be happy to acknowledge the other publication.
If you do not receive a response from us within a month of your submission considered it rejected and feel free to submit again. Due to the volume of submissions we cannot respond to each and every individual submission. Selection for the on-line edition are made on a ongoing basis as we receive your submissions. However, final selections for the print edition will made after the October 31st deadline. (In otherwords not everything that made the cut for the online edition will appear in print.) Please do not query. When in doubt, send the submission to roxy533 at yahoo dot com & violetwrites at nyc dot rr dot com.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
from the fire
the fire girls jumped off
a factory roof to escape*
trapped over 100 others 20 years before
my mother, a millinery copyist in
another factory, could smell the smoke
whenever anyone spoke of
someone they knew...
worse than what there couldn’t ever be
anything worse... she said;
words
I walked past thorough
ignorant of the embers
long before
you fleshed out of my fantasy
and after even after
I smelled it awful
like nothing I had ever known
couldn’t get away from,
you knew instinctively, whose lungs
40 years of Pall Mall smoke blackened;
death’s crackling
I couldn’t hear in my mother’s words
or stop hearing now
blocks from where I lived...
...kept seeing that sky, crowded with so many
from so high to fall
my mother couldn’t have imagined
as flame winged
they flew down
90 years ago
how many more would fly
even further down
one at a time
slam into the earth,
couldn’t ever be anything worse...
But I know now
what you did...
there’s no bottom to anything
always
“still a down and
further still to fall and faster than i
thought...” **
twin-souled and yet
10 months before
I had---there was... urned proof,
as you talked me safely out
of lower Manhattan through our life
back to Brooklyn
loved me past mortal flesh
I didn’t even have a clue...
you were already speaking to me
from the fire.
*Triangle Factory Fire on March 25, 1911
**quote from “Liquid Jesuit” by Andrew Gettler
By Linda Lerner
From Ms. Lerner's book, Living In Dangerous Times, Presa Press (2007) , this poem has also appeared in the journal, Black Bear Review.
Linda Lerner is the author of 12 poetry collections, another is forthcoming this Spring, '09, called Something Is Burning In Brooklyn, from Iniquity Press / Vendetta Books. Her poems are published in hundreds of journals--this one, like most of her work comes out of a very personal experience, she hope others will be able to relate to. It seems her best work is drawn from some unhappiness, or in this case, tragic circumstances; the rest feels like practice, warming up for the real poems. Visit Ms. Lerner online at http://www.nyqpoets.net/poet/lindalerner
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