bang, bang

Once Billy Collins told a group of us that if we ever caught him looking at his own poem in a book to shoot him. He said once he published it he was done with it. Well I think I am the exact opposite, if you ever find me taking for granted that someone actually published me in a journal then please get out the gun.

Tonight in the middle of a thunderstorm I drove to Barnes and Noble and bought the new issues of Pleiades and Bitter Oleander, mainly because I have had several emails about the poem and for some reason have not received my copies. I needed to see it for myself, and for some other reason that I am not quite sure of, had to tell the clerk who was ringing me up that I was on page 32.

I would also probably start telling strangers at the periodical section if the person I was with didn’t start whining about how my “free copy” would be there in a few weeks and wanted to leave. No matter, I understand myself and I work perfectly.

Tonight I went for a run in a thunderstorm, tonight I touched my name and for a moment it was all okay.