My career as a writer has finally kicked off, and I haven't even graduated from college yet. I got my first rejection today from The New Yorker
. I sent them a cartoon idea which I came up with and sloppily sketched out. If you want to get technical, this is actually my second rejection. My brother--a big freelance book critic living in NYC--has been peddling some of my poems for a while. He thought some guys he knows who publish a journal would be interested in three of my poems so he sent them along only to have them turned down. So, yes, this is my second rejection. But this means that I am officially a writer now. Even though I haven't had my work appear in any publication yet, I can now tell people that I am "struggling writer." It is just one more way to describe myself and if I were working now instead of going to school you could even say that I am holding down two careers.
Now a poem in Spanish.Yo soy Teoy no soy guapo, yo soy feome gusta comer muchosi me quieres entonces tu eres putoMi gata siempre tiene miedosiempre yo tengo sedbebo mucho agua frioahora vamos a jugar en mi
That was a silly poem and its silliness cannot be translated in an unsilly way so I will leave it for you to chew on. I love to write silly poems in Spanish as well as in English. Here is a not so silly poem about my cat in Spanish.Mi GataMi gata no tiene un nombreme dijono quiero que me llamas nadate conozcode las abrazos que me das.
Here is the English translation.My CatMy cat goes without a nameshe saidI don't want youto call me anythingI recognize youfrom your hugs alone.
Okay, it is still
a silly poem. But there will be many more poems of a much more sillier caliber in the posts to come. Stay tuned.