A friend of mine from ND, Frank Quinn, just told me about a poetry journal he edited. There was a great review of it in The Daily Princetonian. Frankie has always been a man full of the desires of his heart. He has a passionate take on life . . . when he loves, he loves boldly, when he sins he sins boldly . . . he's one of those guys that you are always glad you know, even if you don't keep in touch very well.
Read the article on Limbic, his new poetry journal. And keep an eye out. This guy lives life.
"Handling poems correctly is a huge responsibility for an editor," Quinn told me in Palmer Square, fiddling with his scarf. He informally tags many of his statements "man," but is honestly terrified by me in my capacity as reviewer. "Editing is treading very softly," he said, adding that it is "a dialogue" in which the poet is expected to win. He is a poet himself, but lacks any sort of affectation except for occasional turns of phrase. For example, he dismissed printing an online edition by saying he did not want people to read the journal "on a website under humming lights."
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