Aside:

I’m working on a “professional online portfolio” for a class I’m taking this semester, and so I have been going through my old poetry publications. I feel like a fool for not sending out more work to more places when I was an undergraduate. But then again, I had two dozen publications before I hit my MFA program. So maybe I was doing something right.

It is hard to think of myself as professional. And yet I am one? I have become one? I am one. This is all very odd.