Myself as a Tree

My spring semester finally came to a close last Wednesday. I was thinking the other day about how wonderful it would be cultivating the life of a graduate student this summer, this is, taking lengthy bike rides through the city and engaging in a regular habit of writing. Unfortunately, I will be teaching four sections of college English this summer, beginning in a week’s time. Nearly all of my classes are already full and have been for about a month. Sometimes I feel as weary as the box elder in the picture I’m enclosing; it’s located in a park about a couple of miles from where I live.



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I’m hoping to submit my poetry manuscript to yet another chapbook contest before the end of the month. I’ve been thinking of changing the title and reexamining the poems. It has been a year since I last submitted any of my poems. Unlike Jilly Dybka , I haven’t yet sworn off all poetry contests even though I know that my manuscript hasn’t been given much if any attention at some of the contests I’ve entered. I had considered entering a recent chapbook contest that a friend from graduate school oversees, but such an action would have been unethical. A blogger named Anne Haines has her chapbook coming out from Finishing Line. My chapbook was accepted by Finishing Line, too, almost two years ago. I declined the offer because I couldn’t see myself getting the necessary sales prior to publication. My wife and agree that I probably should have bought those copies myself and then sold them at readings after my chapbook came out, assuming, of course, that we could have come up with the money. But I would prefer having my book accepted without stipulations. Wish me luck.