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.