Sometimes, Bridges Burn By Themselves

I would have to guess that you haven't had all that much experience in revising your poetry.
--Local poetry editor

It took all my strength to refrain from emailing this jerk, telling him he didn't show much experience in editing other people's work (or interacting with others), and withdrawing my poems. I didn't and have since wondered if the so-called "high road" is paved with suckers like me.

Over the years, friends have contributed to this local magazine several times in the past few years. The originator of the magazine also runs readings based on who gets published in his magazine. I emailed him to inquire about opportunites when my book came out. He suggested I submit to the magazine in order to have opportunities. I had the impression that he knew of my work and cared to know. Almost a year later, I have yet to have this confirmed, though overall, I can't fault his politeness. When the work I sent was lost the first time I sent it, he gave me the home address for the current poetry editor of the mag, who is the true subject of my ire.

I submitted four pieces. One of the two weakest pieces was accepted automatically, while the three stongest pieces were sent back without comment. The second of the two weakest was sent back with suggestions.

Now, let me point out: I am very professional when sending out work. I take it seriously. I've had high standards of corresponding with editors longer than I've been writing poetry that's actually good (It's the only way I impressed Bill Knot when I had him in workshop). My only fault is the tendency to provide submissions with "filler"--weaker poems that maybe an editor or two can provide some insight to after I've tried for years to improve on them and failed. (Sometimes I just send it to see if a weaker magazine will take it just to get publishing cred--this is why I see this as a fault).

I got my wish with the second weak poem, only I was naive in thinking that the simple style the magazine invited (oversimplified at times, I felt) could be open to my style, which tries to be playful but still keeps the language simple (again, sometimes too simple at times).

I feel I was being polite to the point when I can't even take comfort in that after it's over. True, I sent him multiple versions of the poem; but I paid the postage for our correspondence, and he invited me to do so in the first place. I also took all of the suggestions seriously, trying to apply them all. Not once did I write to him asking why he was working with my poem to remove all the poetry from it.

I appreciate simplicity of language, and like I said earlier, the poem was weak. Still, the end result of what he was pushing for was just so....dull. So incredibly dull. So pointlessly simple.

In a final attempt at self-respect, I figured that the poem was written five years ago (as part of my MFA thesis), and I'd learned many more tricks since then. Completely rewriting some pieces have been incredibly rewarding for me in the past. So I added some stanzas and tried to give it a new form (write a new poem, really) he might appreciate while maintaining my standards. I wasn't displeased with the results, though I didn't expect 100% approval. I sent it out, thinking he might either be won over, offer further revisions (at this point, I was seeing the dialogue as being fun) or admit--politely--that our styles were too different and maybe suggest that I send him more poems to try out for next year's issues.

Instead I get a letter with the above quote. And more.

I was caught in a trap, I felt. No matter how nice I was, I couldn't really withdraw the work without looking bad to him and having that negative opinon passed on to the publisher. After sitting on the piece and my emotions for weeks, I did in his mind a good editing job (basically, being a good editor to this person means following all of his handwritten instructions) and submitted a completely neutered piece I was almost sure he'd enjoy for God knows what reason.

So I proved I'm a good "editor." What do I have to show for it? Two poems in a magazine (one already printed, one to be published) that I feel I'll never reprint again, for starters. Also, through connections with the publisher, I eventually got a reading where no one involved in it's preparation made the effort to know me beforehand. The host wasn't even able to say my last name for the introduction.

As I read the first poem, the host, the publisher, and all the open mic friends of the host raced to the outside in one cliquish mass for smokes.

I did learn two things. First, even in "real" poetry there is no all-inclusive scene. Just cliques that pick and choose who they want the same way slam judges pick winning poems (only more nefariously). Second, poetry, in some ways, is a purer art. If you compromise your art, and you're just a page poet, you don't get much for it, only the illusion of belonging (slam poets can at least add money to their dilemna).

Why sell out for nothing?