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Yet another Charles Wright book.
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Last month a journal sent me a contract to sign. I noticed my middle initial was missing from my name on the contract. I signed the contract but sent a nice letter asking the powers-that-be to add my middle initial. A couple of days ago the page proofs arrived; my middle initial is still missing from my name! I hate it when my full name isn't printed. I hate it! I've emailed someone I know who works at the journal. I'm hoping he will correct the situation. And yes, it is a situation.
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Dirty minds.
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You need money? Write a poem and send it here.
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Why do people whine on their blogs?
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What I told Naren last night during our IM session:
In graduate school I lived in a basement apartment. A rat's hole. A warm rat's hole. I often kept my window open to let in the cool air. Near the end of my last semester my landlord would come in and show the apartment to possible tenants. Often their eyes would bulge at the sight of my bathroom. It was gross. Words fail me. Once, after viewing my place, as they walked past my window, I heard my landlord say to a young man, He's not here to pick strawberries. He's in the Workshop."
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Nothing beautiful to say about the world...
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About Me
- Eduardo C. Corral
- Eduardo C. Corral is a CantoMundo fellow. He holds degrees from ASU and the Iowa Writers' Workshop. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Beloit Poetry Journal, jubilat, New England Review, Ploughshares, Poetry, and Post Road. His work has been honored with a "Discovery"/The Nation award and residencies from The MacDowell Colony and Yaddo. He has served as the Olive B. O'Connor Fellow in Creative Writing at Colgate University and as the Philip Roth Resident in Creative Writing at Bucknell University. He's the interview editor for Boxcar Poetry Review. He won the 2011 Yale Series of Younger Poets competition.
6 comments:
You forgot to mention that the guy he was showing your apartment to was black and showed remarkable solidarity. I have my own Iowa landlord story--he came to fix an electrical outlet in my wall and mentioned something about how he would never rent to fags. Charming.
That link to that last poem is right on. The poem's a beauty.
I do whatever the fuck I want on my blog. I don't know why other people whine, though.
I get the initial thing all the time too.
On the other hand, I whine in my blog sometimes...
Ah, but why don't enough people wine on their blogs, Mr. E.C. Corral?
i love to whine—on my blog and everywhere else, really.
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