Posts by Sean Glatch
Literary Agents: What They Do and How to Find One
What does a literary agent do? And where do you go about finding a literary agent? When you’re ready to submit a manuscript for publication, you might solicit top literary agents to represent your work. But, like most things in the writing business, actually getting a literary agent—especially a good one—proves much more difficult than…
Read MoreWhat is Blackout Poetry? Examples and Inspiration
If you struggle to find the right words, why not start with somebody else’s? Such is the philosophy behind blackout poetry, a recent artistic and literary phenomenon that has blossomed in the past decade. What is blackout poetry? Chances are, you have already seen blackout poetry in action: maybe it’s shown up on your social…
Read MoreProof of Life
There is a tiny person under my roof this morning. She arrived two days ago, and I fussed and worried and sterilized and kept the appropriate social distance, until finally her mother placed her gently in my arms. I cannot adequately describe how it felt to hold another human close, after the terrible, endless Covid…
Read MoreThe Old Couple
Day after day, the old couple down the street climbed into their car to keep it company. Going through the motions of being alive, she whipped around the steering wheel, he hung his hand out the window to signal turns, gracefully. In the rear-view mirror, both raise their fists at recklessness and abandon, imagined or…
Read MoreEmergence
I thought, on this sunlit morning, having tea on my own stretch of lake, listening to the returned pair of King Fishers from last year, their chitters audible above the waves, and now that you have birthed and nurse your own child, to say that you were this jewel now in your arms. I am…
Read MoreStarlings
New life explodes in open vents vespers of baby bird chirps cacophony of hunger Spirit cloistered in crawl space sings out to our weary souls and we listen.
Read MoreHope Poems
1. My Heart, a Stone I’d like to start a bonfire in my heart but today there’s just a stone; last night, a whirlwind; before, a broken mirror. It seems there was once a beacon, perhaps, or at least a candle. A candle in the wind, perhaps, or at least a match. Out, out. But…
Read MoreWith a Bang
—with a bang—the hairy flower wild petunia—flings its tiny seeds—sudden and far—how and why—the scientist—kneels down—clamps a metal band—on a pigeon’s leg—her initials—and i.d. number—my broken toe—x-rayed, recorded—at the Bleecker Street station—an old man—with head bowed—kneeling—on cardboard—an over crowded—shopping cart, a sign—repent—the end is near—the Indian guru whispers—the only sin—to harm oneself—to harm another—is to…
Read MoreDESCENDING
glow leaves of autumn —gold afternoon— I thought first electric lights against a purple rain-swollen sky while a drizzle lit by that same gap in clouds shines down On Lha Bab Duchen (When Buddha returns from Heaven) new president
Read MoreMy Blessed Boy on the Streets…and my Teacher of all Things Good
Previously Published in U.S. Catholic. A sometimes lonely leftover phone booth stands on a street corner in Portland, Oregon. When a street person feels so inclined, he or she can use the one-time pay phone, now free of charge, to call friends and/or family anywhere in the world. And inside the phone booth, profound words…
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