“In summer, the song sings itself.”
William Carlos Williams
Scapegoat’s Summer Issue is here at last. I apologize for the delay. Working on an MFA while hosting salons has been phenomenal. It has kept me busy, though. This coming fall many more projects are in the works, all to do with poetry and getting others involved; as the projects progress, I’ll keep you informed. Upstairs at Erika’s is busier than ever, and I’ve added on Salon Dinners with Poets, which has been a great way for people to engage with poets on a more intimate level. I am delighted with the writers who have contributed to this issue. In another quote by Williams;
“It is summer, it is the solstice
the crowd is
cheering, the crowd is laughing
in detail
permanently, seriously
without thought.”
This is what summer is—
a time of joy, of beauty, flowers blooming
gardens bursting, the technicolor’s of sanguine
Saturday’s, teal tomorrow’s, and yesterday’s aureate’s.
Fall is near, colors disappear, becoming muted with melancholy
and despair. Aubergine, mossy green, bittersweet apricot—
these are the colors of the season after summer; before the dormant frost of winters comes.
We are now accepting book reviews 800 words or less that are on the subject of poetry, either about to come out or just published. We are also looking for people interested in blogging on the subject of poetry, and those interested in helping out with the review. If interested, please contact me.
Thanks, Erika
