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SUBMISSION GUIDELINES
and
QUESTIONS IMAGINARY PEOPLE HAVE ASKED MORE THAN ONCE

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Questions: 

If you don't know, you're probably on the right track. Probably not a rigorous definition right there, but seeing as how I will likely be reading everything that comes through here until I find some other lost soul to do some of it, you're stuck with my opinion on the subject. So: if it amuses me, it's composed of words, and it doesn't qualify as prose -- this is where I'm going to wedge your work.

Claire adds: Don't mind him. If you write poetry, send it to us. I promise to smack Neil if he makes fun.

If you want them to be read and adored by millions; probably somewhere else. If you're expecting to be paid a handsome sum for your work; ibid. If you've poured your soul into your words, and you just want them on the damned world wide web already, try verse@machinepoetry.info .

Prose: prose@machinepoetry.info

Music: music@machinepoetry.info

Visual Art: art@machinepoetry.info

Feedback: hate@machinepoetry.info

Please feel free to tell us a little bit about yourself for your bio section. If I don't know you, I'll probably put your description up verbatim. If I do know you, I will likely fill that section with fabulous lies and innuendo.

You can keep those. By sending us your work, you're just granting us permission to post your work at MachingPoetry.info, and possibly in a bound anthology or print journal later on. If you'd prefer not to see your work inked across the pulped and reconstituted corpse of a tree, just let us know in your submission letter. If you decide you no longer want your work on this site, drop me a note to that effect. Easy.

Sure -- give us an email address, a PO Box, or someway of contacting you, though.

I didn't, because I don't. I would like to -- if Machine Poetry ever does better than break-even, I will be thrilled to mail out checks. I may even donate my own saliva to the task of sealing envelopes. But considering that I have no money don't expect that check any time soon.

I will, however, do my best to make your work as visible as possible on the interweb -- your success and mine are intertwined where they intersect here, you see. Hell, if you send me a lot of your work that I enjoy, I'll write you a glowing recommendation letter, do your taxes, walk your dog, and lie to your ex-girlfriends for you. Maybe.

Claire adds: He's not kidding -- this guy hasn't bought a new shirt in three years.

Shut up, Mom.

Claire adds: My apologies, Mrs. Austin -- your son is a rude boy.

Alright, fine. Include your name and address in your submission email, and copy it into your submission document as well. If I don't know where you get your mail, I won't know where to send your hypothetical, metaphorical, or otherwise non-existent check.

I assume you meant to ask what file types will I accept? Anything, really, but if I can't open it, or if I have to download an application from some obscure company based in Indonesia or Indiana, I'm probably not going to bother. If grief is the point of your art, convey it with your words (or notes,  or pixels), please.

No. I don't care if you happen to disagree with or insult me, as long as you do it in an interesting fashion. If I think your work is well crafted, thought provoking, or just funny, I'll put it up. If it's boring, I won't. Simple as that, bitch-lips.

I do not want to see your penis.

Claire adds: Sure, Sparky. We ALL believe you.

Seriously, Mom; just stop.

You're welcome to try to convince me. I'm much more likely to say yes to this one if you've submitted a few pieces that I've enjoyed, but I'm probably not going to let you post entries without prior review unless a) I know you, b) your work has drawn a lot of hits to the site, or c) you bribe me.

That's not a question.

Found it scribbled in my moleskine between a descriptions of rain forests and bathrooms. The idea, originally, was to build a site entirely devoted to computer-generated haiku, but ironically enough, writing a program designed to write poetry (instead of actually writing poetry one's self,) would require a great deal of work. I'm still planning to do this, and it should be quite apparent when I've made progress.

Machine Poetry is an experimental inversion of authorship, wherein (and whereout) the reader joins other readers to become a collective poet through the act of reading poetry.

Still not a question. It'll make sense later, I promise.

Would you believe it's because .info is an acronym for "independent networks for outsiders?"

Fine. .info domains are much cheaper. Happy?

The cry of half an ass.

Claire adds: and he *would* know what that sounds like.

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