Poetry is not for one, but for all...

As an outlaw editor, (my apologies to Alan Kaufman) it is my duty to break the laws of poetry set by those kooky, exclusive, academic poet of the month clubs dominating concise poetics with precise standards. Poesy publishes poems that speak, scream, cry and lie to the common man with a pat on the back for keeping it real.

You will see a mountain of images in the issue that climb the minds of creative souls painted upon mirrors hung along binding walls that try to pin us down as convicts of conventionalism. Part of this 'keeping it real for the common man' theme is because I know how hard it is to change tomorrow if we can't deal with today.

Poetry has the power to provoke thought and emotion; sometimes even impact or change select lives. To distill the power of poetry, we as a team have to stand strong. The current status of American poetry, let it be small press or the corporate money pools, is in a state of emergency.

Poets are forgoing the art (as elaborated in this issue's Matt Welter interview) because of the overbearing lack of unity. We are supposed to be progressing toward brotherhood rather than regressing into a clique. I proposed to a handful of poets and editors what they thought was the carrier of this swelling infection. One source figures, "what's killing poetry is the people in it!" Recurrent themes surfaced throughout other responses: poets have become ungrateful, cheapskates, self-righteous. On the contrary: editors are too political, too money hungry, too many egos.

This communal bickering and fretting over mere misconceptions is suffocating poetry to its demise. Forget name-dropping popularity contests and resort back to the glory days of when your poem was first acknowledged by a reputable journal, or holding the first bound issue of your journal's debut. Remember the emotions it provoked? You felt like you were a part of something special that would change the rest of your life. There was no turning back. It wasn't about your name appearing next to Ferlinghetti's. It wasn't about if you just so happened to break even, or maybe made a buck or two off your latest issue. It was about a collaborative effort between voices to sustain the word prevailing into the public eye.

In American civilization where our youth are more fond of purchasing a Britney Spears CD than vouching for the latest ground breaking literary release, poetry is not yet grounded. We are not rock stars. We are curators who possess the key to unlock inspiration into the empty desolation of absorbent minds. Take pride in who you are, but first, consider taking pride in who we are.