Acceptance: Danse Macabre

Owl is just back from a two night backpack and his ears are still swarming with echoes of ravenspeak -- but it was marvelous to return to the world of humanity and internet-dom and find that three poems were accepted by Danse Macabre, two of them as poems Du Jour -- which is to say that Danse Macabre, a truly unique, eerie, dark and labyrinthian journal has a section called Danse Macabre Du Jour, which has daily features -- and for June 2, 2011 my poems "Twister" and "Slave Ship" are up.

To find them at this time is not easy. Your best bet is to go to the home page:

entree a Danse Macabre

Scroll down. Then click on Danse Macabre du Jour, which is a Tarot Card of the Moon, at least at this time. Next scroll down to June 2, or find the archives for June 2011 way way way down below.

The general rule at DM is if you are lost scroll down and play with the various slider bars.

Also, a third poem of mine appears in issue xlvii, Summer Nights. The poem is "The Skull" and the issue is here (I think):

Summer Nights, xlvii Danse Macabre

Scroll down to "The Skull."

The absinthe-mad mind that runs this ghoulish carnival of brilliance is named Adam Henry Carriere -- I think. To see why I am confused, bittersweetly so, you have to visit the site. You'll never forget. You may not be able to find my poems, but you won't care. You'll just be amazed, aroused and spine-chilled.

Yeah, Edgar Allen Poe is there. And other classic godlings. But so are contemporary writers.

Crazily, Danse Macabre claims to be the first online lit zine for the State of Nevada.

You really have to visit this place. It is the maddest most addictive injection of words and daemonic imagery going. If Carriere is the Editor-Impressario(a former NPR broadcaster and lit meister and many other accolades) he is one of the few real geniuses I have encountered -- he's channeling some kind of vivacious/nefarious spirit. Extraordinary doesn't even begin ...

I'm in an altered state myself from two nights of shamanic activities alone in the wilderness, far away from any trail for that matter.

Farewell -- don't dance to long at Danse Macabre. It could be a sign of literary ergotism.

Best,

Owl