Poem No. 408, Please Take Off Your Shirt . . .

Spring weather and rain, a new thesis chapter lying mostly unwritten, the quote in incipit from Philippe Jaccottet seeming to stare out slightly ominously: « I’d like to tear out your tongue, sometimes, sententious sentence-maker . . . » (« Je t’arracherais bien la langue, quelquefois, sentencieux phraseur . . . »)

Thinking, of all things, of the now common fact of paying other people to consider one’s work. Made the resolution not to enter into « contracts » which demand money for consideration. I used to do this, in the past : two manuscript competitions, a couple of bad short stories I’d entered into Sunday raffles at « prestigious » fiction venues. Today it dawned on me as being actually a touch revolting. Not sure why I didn’t feel this before. It's difficult to imagine another life-situation in which you would have to pay somebody to consider you, your candidature, or your efforts: «Please show up at the job interview Tuesday morning at 10, with $30USD, for the chance to be considered by our interviewer.» Va te faire foutre pauvre con ! (pardon the French, the language not the people).

I know it’s personal: I have a lot of friends who have entered manuscript fête lotteries, and some who use it as a way to fund their presses. I just don’t buy it anymore (literally). This might change, in the future; maybe I'm being overly earnest.

The pragmatist argument seems well-intentioned, but, at least to me, skewed. It’s an internet chain-letter: «To be receive $3000 dollars deposit in bank-a-count, please send the $40 Abuja International Poetics Academy.» (By the way, I particularly like the Atlanta Review's innovative incremental payment-scheme : «Entry fee: $5 for the first poem, $3 for each additional poem!» It's like reverse compound-interest! Or rather: 5$ for the first falafel, 3$ for each additional falafel . . . With prices like these, you can't not afford to enter Grandma's Hands (hat-tip to Mr. S ) . . . This one is actually one of the funniest poetry whorings I've come across. I particularly like their grand prize:

$2,008 !

I presume next year it will be one dollar more, thus corresponding to W.P.I.I. standards (World Poetry Inflation Index). Also, they usefully indicate that: "This is the ONLY poetry competition that guarantees you international recognition!" International Recognition! Sweet . . . I'm also a fan of their other innovation: just as for that slightly-less-gifted child in the spelling-bee, the mere fact of your entry comes with an all-frills back-up: "Includes Certificate" . . .

Anyway, I'm actually in a much better mood than the tone of this post might indicate! Perhaps it’s just about slowly understanding where your own compass lies in regards to publishing: a "philosophy of reception" which is also strangely a part of the philographic (or graphomaniacal) process. (Also, do these things exist in France? I don't think so. Sorry, but praised be the Continent . . . )

Another analogy is pertinent: do Idol participants pay to be considered? Probably. And then Louise Glück, in an overly tight Simon Cowell T-shirt, intones: « Sweetheart, that was just awful » . . .