A few months ago, Editor David O’Nan, of Fevers of the Mind, invited me to write the opening of a poem for a proposed anthology entitled, “The Empath Always Dies in the End.” So, freed from the responsibility of creating a whole, finished work, I wrote the first thing that came into my head on this theme. Flash forward, life happened to David, and he let me know he found himself unable to complete the project.

Not wanting to let my opening go to waste and still trying to fill the last five pages I think my manuscript needs to be a marketable book, I decided to finish my poem myself. At this point I regretted my spontaneous irresponsibility. Giant butterflies? Who was I kidding?

After letting ideas percolate for a couple of days, I felt I had enough of a way forward to sit down at the computer and see where it took me, and “In the Land of Giant Butterflies” was the result. I find it an acceptable poem, and pretty good for the theme of empath death, but a bit marginal to my volume on fascism. I justify its inclusion, however, on the grounds that it illustrates (allegorically) the kinds of power plays, corruption of personal relationships, and exploitation that characterize fascism.*

Anyway, soon after I completed it, I saw that the new publication, Green Splotches Speculative Poetry Review, was looking for submissions. Happily, they accepted mine and put it up on their website with breathtaking speed. Many thanks to Editor John Martin Tomlinson, who also called the poem “beautiful.”

I am not well acquainted with Green Splotches as yet, but, in keeping with Editor Tomlinson’s interest in religion, peace, and the environment, and with such common speculative themes as the vastness of space and our estrangement from other beings, the few pieces I have read (including my own) tend toward the elegiac. Although one might not expect it from such literally outlandish material, the poems are full of exquisite longing and the pathos of loss. Go see for yourself.

Postscript: Tonight, at an open mike, one of the participants was inspired by my poem to read Archy’s (of Archy and Mehitabel) conversation with a moth. Since my use of the idea of a moth attracted by a flame may well owe something to that work, this was an appropriate connection to make, to say the least. My father’s friend, George Kleinsinger (of “Tubby the Tuba” fame), wrote the music for the concept album. I listened to it often as a kid, and had enough affection for its characters that I got a book of Don Marquis’ original newspaper columns on which it was based out of the library–but concluded that the album packed more of a wallop.

If you are not acquainted with Archy and Mehitabel, click on the link to visit them on YouTube. It’s worth your time.

*Actually, this poem did not make the final cut for the anti-fascist collection.