Proving that we've still got a few months of Saturday mail delivery left before the USPS abandons weekend service, I heard a satisfying clunk in my mailbox yesterday, caused by the arrival of Cimarron Review number 182, featuring various short stories, an unexpected essay about tanning machines by Meagan Ciesla, and by poetry by Sam Hamill, Ruben Quesada, Kate Gleason, and many others, including a couple of poems by some guy named Archambeau: one about Milton's neologisms and one about speaking to an imaginary lecture hall full of a career's worth of former students. Since the speaker of the latter poem is an academic with serious ethical problems, I hasten to add: I am not he — he's more of a composite of roguish profs of the 1970s and 80s, along the Grady Tripp model. Information about subscribing or about getting your hands on a single issue is available here.
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| Grady Tripp, disreputable creative writing professor |