Hole In The Head
lovely Charles Simic Prize standard
Charlie Simic wrote: That reminds me. My great-grandfather, the blacksmith Philip Simic, died at the age of ninety-six in 1938, the year of my birth, after returning home late one night from a dive in the company of gypsies. He thought they would help him fall asleep, but he passed away like that in his own bed with the musicians playing his favorite songs. That explains why my father sang gypsy songs so well and why I write poems, because like my grandfather I can't sleep at night.
We received some wonderful poems in response to the Charles Simic Prize, representing hundreds of sleepless nights. And it's a shame we couldn't accept each one. But, of course, we couldn't.
While your work will not be moving on, we truly appreciate your participation and your support of Hole In The Head Review.
Keep writing! And try to get a little sleep...