A call for work
“Men still live who, in their youth, remember pigeons; trees still live who, in their youth, were shaken by a living wind. But a few decades hence only the oaks will remember, and at long last only the hills will know.”— Aldo Leopold, “On a Monument to the Pigeon,” 1947
We will publish the best poems we are given. There is no restriction on style, form or what my poet friend Tony Robinson calls tradition. Everyone is welcome. I say we, because I hope this becomes a collective, a community, a barking flock of birds. I don’t know who we are yet or entirely what we’re about. In this, talk is cheap. We’re about to find out together. I hope we can be diverse, good, different. All I can do is speak my intent and aim high–maybe stick a landing.
For established poets, send me something you believe in. Something that deserves to sound and I will be grateful because as a new journal, we could use some good noise. If you’re hardly-known, new on the scene, let’s learn to fly together.
I like writers and find that sometimes editors don’t. A few friends have told me I won’t be so keen after this run. We’ll see.
Here’s the important part, my leanings don’t matter or don’t interest me. I know my art and my idea of art. I’m more interested in yours and how it could change or affect or move mine. In that way, we become something new together.
Send me one to three poems by Word or PDF to TheNightHeronBarks@gmail.com Feel free to be yourself in cover letter. Write “submission” and your name in the subject line. Simultaneous submissions are encouraged unless you’re the faithful romantic type. Then by all means be exclusive, just remember I’m seeing other people. Full guidelines are here.https://nightheronbarks.com/submit/
I believe we practice an incorruptible art, to borrow a Kenneth Burke phrase. You can’t really get famous or rich at it–they save the shine for the dead. You have to love it a little too much to be bothering with it enough to draft, edit and submit to journals with a rejection rate that’s somewhere north of 90 percent. I believe in us first as a community. I think we can be better than we are. I’d like to provide a place to land for a few of you. To sing your praises.
A shared point on the map in both our journeys. A place to look back on and return to.