First Edit: On Finding Another Dead Literary Journal

[Richard]

First Edit:

Another Dead Literary Journal

The publisher employs words like
discontinued,
unprofitable.
They even fill a page
telling the readership that it's time to move on.

The editor smiles like one would a funeral.
Worried about his next job,
he calls it a shame and moves on.

The writer,
a stoic survivalist,
shrugs and moves on.

At first, the poet empathizes:
understanding the need to find another,
anxious about money and livelihoods,
accepting the situation like someone in the audience
of a bad play.
Then comes the anger
from realizing another possible page is gone;
from imagining another poem grabbed on main street,

beaten, stabbed,
dumped at the outskirts of town,
only to survive and question those who drove by.


Original:

On Finding Another Dead Literary Journal

The publisher employs words like
discontinued,
unprofitable.

The editor
worried about his next job
calls it a shame and moves on.

The writer,
a stoic survivalist,
shrugs and finds another.

At first, the poet empathizes.
Then comes the anger:
another possible page has been crumpled,
another metaphor denied,
another poem snatched from main street,
beaten, raped;
the body dumped in the river.
And most people don't even notice.

[CNL]

On Finding Another Dead Literary Journal

The publisher employs words like
discontinued,
unprofitable.

The editor
worried about his next job
calls it a shame and moves on. I feel like these first two stanzas needs a little more solid imagery, maybe some visual verbs involving pencils or scribbling, or the body language of the publisher and the editor? For instance the writer shrugs to express his emotion. Maybe the publisher and editor could have their own visual cues to express their exasperation and worry? Or maybe each stanza could be written from the perspective of that person in the chain, that way it has more punch? It's just that "employ words like" and "calls it a shame and moves on" weren't very evocative for me. I like how you humanize the editor a little because that ties back into the poet's initial empathy - that's why I'd like a stronger image to express that.
The writer,
a stoic survivalist, I really like that
shrugs and finds another. like "moves on," I feel like "finds another" is a little plain. I know that relating the actions of these people more colorfully would require making the poem longer though, and I don't know how you feel about that.

At first, the poet empathizes. I'm sure you intentionally didn't begin this with "The Poet" rather than "at first," but some neat freak instinct in me wanted that. Not a big deal though. Also, I think the poet's shift from empathy to anger was an intriguing moment that I wish had received more attention, perhaps even its own explanation?
Then comes the anger:
another possible page has been crumpled, The crumpled page image didn't do much for me. Maybe if it was the metaphor that was crumpled, something to mix it up?
another metaphor denied,
another poem snatched from main street,
beaten, raped;
the body dumped in the river. This crucial section does make me rethink some of my previous comments. The sudden violent imagery here is that much more sudden and violent because the rest of it was so restrained.
And most people don't even notice. I don't know that this is insightful enough to be a more powerful ending than the previous line.

[Lizzie]

Hi Richard! You keep lamenting the demise of the poetic word (or perhaps, the poetry reader) in your poems. I liked your others, but this one makes too obvious a play on the emotions. I find the rape bit particularly overstated and not appropriate as a metaphor -- if poetry is getting ignored, how is it getting raped? The comparison simply doesn't work. An acknowledgement of a poet's work is denied certainly, but is it murder? The poem lives on -- it wasn't annihilated because some publisher didn't print it that one time. A journal died, yes, but you haven't made a compelling case to me of murder. It sounds more like a letting go, the culmination of a slow demise, not a sudden, jarring, knife-stabby death. So, I don't think the metaphor of murder works either.

I find that people tend to throw in violence (rape, in particular) as a way of strengthening their point, like how people will throw God into a conversation to bolster their position. It's a loaded subject, it gets attention, and it's too easy to throw in like a swear word or two to make a poem feel edgy. What I'm saying is that I don't think the reference works here -- the piece is short and it seems like that bit is overstated to give the poem gravitas.

Moreover, you're preaching to the choir. If someone is reading your poem in a journal (I'm making the assumption that you're published or that you intend to be), they are a lover of poetry and will lament it's relegation to the fringes of our culture's literary experience regardless. I don't think you particularly need to jackhammer the point.

But, what do I know.

On Finding Another Dead Literary Journal -- I'd drop "On Finding" and just say "Another Dead Literary Journal." It just sounds better to me. Less wordy.

The publisher employs words like
discontinued,
unprofitable. -- this stanza feels incomplete. Who is the publisher talking to?

The editor -- comma at the end here and after "job"
worried about his next job
calls it a shame and moves on.

The writer,
a stoic survivalist,
shrugs and finds another.

At first, the poet empathizes.
Then comes the anger: -- these two lines are too much tell and not enough show. I don't think they add much, actually.
another possible page has been crumpled,
another metaphor denied,
another poem snatched from main street,
beaten, raped;
the body dumped in the river.
And most people don't even notice. -- maybe "you" instead of "most people"? Make it more accusatory in tone? Just an idea.

Hope this helps some.

Best to you,

Lizzie

[Richard]

Hey Lizzie,
Thanks for your feedback. It gave me some ideas about where to take this poem from here. I am definitely rethinking the rape image, and reading what you said actually gave me an idea for a more effective image.  

One of the reasons I write about poetry's marginalization in the modern world is because of one of my favorite poems. It's called "Portrait of Poet as Landscape". It was written by A.M. Klein and was published long before I was born. This poem is like my shadow, and I just can't escape its influence some times. May be I am being too poetic here (irony?). Anyway, I thought I would mention the poem for some food for thought.

Thanks again,
Richard

[Richard]

So sorry,
I forgot to thank you, CNL, as well. Your feedback also gave some useful ideas for the next revision of this poem.

Thanks again,
Richard

[CRNDLSM]

First Edit:

Another Dead Literary Journal

The publisher employs words like
discontinued, I don't understand it's intriguing though
unprofitable. The comma makes unprofitable seem like your interpretation of words like discontinued, as opposed to the second in a list
They even fill a page the publisher fills a page in the dead literary journal, or about the literary journal, or both
telling the readership that it's time to move on. How about quoting it's time to move on and dropping the 'that' it's time to move on is fairly colloquial 

The editor smiles like one would a funeral. At a funeral?
Worried about his next job, automatic foreshadow 
he calls it a shame and moves on. Oh the editor is not responding to the page filled by or about the publisher, but adding to it.  Move on...

The writer,
a stoic survivalist, I like this enjambment following the first two strophes
shrugs and moves on. Moves on nice

At first, the poet empathizes: why poet? Separate from writer
understanding the need to find another,
anxious about money and livelihoods,
accepting the situation like someone in the audience
of a bad play.this portion seems to matter of fact, I don't feel for the poet, despite the empathy
Then comes the anger
from realizing another possible page is gone;
from imagining another poem grabbed on main street, why main street? Another poem, like a jealous ex

beaten, stabbed, I picture this literary magazine not even worth trash pickup, broken on main street
dumped at the outskirts of town,
only to survive and question those who drove by. Not feeling this last line, why question driversby?

Interesting work, hope I helped!


Original:

On Finding Another Dead Literary Journal

The publisher employs words like
discontinued,
unprofitable.

The editor
worried about his next job
calls it a shame and moves on.

The writer,
a stoic survivalist,
shrugs and finds another.

At first, the poet empathizes.
Then comes the anger:
another possible page has been crumpled,
another metaphor denied,
another poem snatched from main street,
beaten, raped;
the body dumped in the river.
And most people don't even notice.

[Ateri]

First Edit:

Another Dead Literary Journal

The publisher employs words like  

discontinued,                                       Perhaps consider formatting the words 'discontinued' and 'unprofitable' with italics, quotes, or bold.                                                                           This may help reinforce or add another dimension to the image of the publisher writing these words to                                                                  the readership.

unprofitable.
They even fill a page                            Consider replacing the word 'they' with a more colorful description of the words that fill the page. It may                                                               create a more concrete image.
telling the readership that it's time to move on. 

The editor smiles like one would a funeral.    I really like this line, especially 'smiles like one would a funeral' I think there are rather complicated                                                                        emotions involved with smiling at a funeral. Consider elaborating more on what that looks and                                                                                  feels like.
Worried about his next job,
he calls it a shame and moves on.

The writer,
a stoic survivalist,                                        I like the sound clusters/alliteration here! -stoic, survivalist, shrugs
shrugs and moves on.

At first, the poet empathizes:                      It says 'empathizes' but the poet does not necessarily seem to be sharing the feelings of the editor or                                                                    writer. The next lines suggest they are feeling rather hapless, worried and unlucky.  
understanding the need to find another,          
anxious about money and livelihoods,
accepting the situation like someone in the audience
of a bad play.
Then comes the anger
from realizing another possible page is gone;
from imagining another poem grabbed on main street,

beaten, stabbed,                                I liked the descriptors you used in your original version more. It leaves a strong impression on the reader                                                              and is a great contrast to the relatively relaxed tone in the beginning of the poem. I also like the                                                                           personification.  Consider adding 'beaten, raped; the body dumped in the river.' back in. 


dumped at the outskirts of town,
only to survive and question those who drove by.

First time writing a poetry review and I am a novice poet, so take it all with a grain of salt! Good work so far.

Original:

On Finding Another Dead Literary Journal

The publisher employs words like
discontinued,
unprofitable.

The editor
worried about his next job
calls it a shame and moves on.

The writer,
a stoic survivalist,
shrugs and finds another.

At first, the poet empathizes.
Then comes the anger:
another possible page has been crumpled,
another metaphor denied,
another poem snatched from main street,
beaten, raped;
the body dumped in the river.
And most people don't even notice.

[Richard]

Hey CRNDLSM and Ateri,
Thanks for the feedback. It all give me more to think about when considering a second edit of this poem.

Thanks again,
Richard