05 Apr 2016
April is National Poetry Month in the US. April is also Sexually Transmitted Disease Awareness Month (seriously) and, in a few southern states, Confederate Loser History Month. There's a poem in that trio of honorees. Or a bad joke.
Personally, I'm sticking with April as Poetry Month. As such, I wanted to share some favorite lines from a newly published collection of poetry: "Ghost County" by John McCarthy from the fine folks at Midwestern Gothic. McCarthy is the managing editor of Quiddity, the lit journal and radio program. "Ghost County" is, I believe, his first collection, but his poems have appeared in a number of journals (see list here). He also edited the anthology [Ex]tinguished & [Ex]tinct: An Anthology of Things that No Longer [Ex]ist from Twelve Winters Press (see disclaimer below).
I'm not well-versed in poetry. As John Cheever said, "the disciplines [poetry and short stories] are as different as shooting a twelve-gauge shotgun and swimming." On the other hand, both of those activities are things I can easily picture Cheever doing, maybe even at the same time ("nothing like potting a few grouse from the pool on a hot summer day, really the best"). Anyway, point being, I'm making no claim that the phrases I'm sharing here are what actual poets or poetry aficionados would pick out from this collection. And I'm definitely doing violence to the ideas here by yanking the lines out of context. So if you like these bits at all, you should definitely check out the full "Ghost County" volume (just $5 for the digital version).
Without further ado, then, the lines I particularly liked in "Ghost County" by John McCarthy … Click here to see the full post...