Monday, May 3, 2010

Monday Mailbag #14

Dear Tribal Hack:

Looking at all the poems I've composed over the last three years, I see a loose-jointed lawn dart tournament theme running through it, needing an injection of corticosteroids to reduce the hyperbolic swelling of intense competitiveness and bizarre pageantry. I'm thinking of sending most of them out to beleaguered editors, but is there a need for yet another poem about the spiritual benefits of fresh air and the beauty of the arcing steel arrow?

-- Mark Dotty

Dear Mark:

There are many ways you can present this to your editors without them gently placing your efforts in the circular file. Think of the obvious arrow metaphor. (Do you play in a league? And is it co-ed?) These days, there seem to be a renewed interest in poems which show a technical expertise in the subject they're relating, similar to what novelists have often concerned themselves with. Are you up on the particulars of lawn dart composition, the history of lawn dart champions and championship matches, the scandals and back room shenanigans? But most of all, can you write a poignant line such as the following, contained in the immortal lawn dart poem by Randy Shakespeare?: "the quiver plunge breasts the sparse dew". Good luck!