I just wanted to have some fun with it, that's all, play with some words maybe. Absolutely no serious ambitions whatsoever toward poetry or writing in general. Once upon a very long time ago I interviewed for a job as an assistant to somebody who probably had more literary hopes than he was literary, in NYC. I brought in something I had written, and I thought it was pretty good (and it probably was pretty good); it was actually an excerpt out of some fictionalized accounts I had done of how I had envisioned my grandfather's experience. Well, he tore it and me into shreds. He said he was published in Playboy and nobody read stuff like [the junk] I had written, etc. etc. Needless to say I threw my masterpiece out, and that was the end of that. Thinking back on it, I have no idea why a writing sample was required for an assistant level job. It makes me feel better to think that maybe my sample was too good for him, even if Playboy material it obviously wasn't. He probab ly did me a favor to end my literary forays, such as they were, early on. Anyway, the poetry is just for fun, nothing even remotely more than that. I also don't have much time to devote to it. Plus it would get in the way of my latest obsession about current events (which might be burning out now; it's much too hopeless). Speaking of getting published, I was reading some poetry in the New Yorker recently, and it seems poetry is anything anyone wants it to be. Some of it is so bad that they probably include it to make their cartoons look better. Do they pay off editors to get this stuff published I wonder? ----- Original Message ----- From: Lawrence Helm To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx Sent: 9/22/2006 5:47:37 PM Subject: [lit-ideas] Re: Poetry and Madness But maybe I ought to pause to ask, Irene, how committed are you to the idea of writing poetry? Lawrence