THE JOURNAL OF SPORT LITERATURE
From 1984 until 2005 I served as the poetry editor for Aethlon: The Journal of Sport Literature.
Aethlon is published twice yearly by East Tennessee State University Press for the Sport Literature Association. The journal publishes fiction, poetry, personal essays, scholarly articles, and book reviews related to any aspect of sport. As defined by Aethlon, "sport" means play and recreation as well as competitive contests.
Aethlon is available to individuals and institutions through membership in the Sport Literature Association or by subscription from East Tennessee State University Press. SLA membership rates for one year are: individuals $30, students $20, institutions $45. A yearly subscription to Aethlon is $25 for individuals and $30 for institutions. Single copies of Aethlon are also available from East Tennessee State University Press and from bookshops and dealers in periodicals. Inquiries about membership in SLA or subscriptions or submissions to Aethlon should be mailed to Managing Editor, Aethlon, Department of English, East Tennessee State University, Johnson City, TN 37614-0683.
Here is a representative poem from a recent issue of Aethlon:
My father is gliding today
--head up, puck cradled--
on soft summer ice and 62-year-old knees.
dust from the gap blows through our house
in east Idaho
but I can see it.
His goals are hard-earned
--every one of them.
There will be prettier tallies today
on the Chillawack ice;
his will come from back-checking
rebounds and second chances.
The work before the goal worth admiring.
Every morning at 5:30--
his sounds, coffee,
and then motors turning over:
a '62 Ford Fairlane
a '65 Pontiac Parissean Super Sport
a '70 Ford Van
a '73 Datsun
an '82 Nissan.
For thirty-two years the telephone company
used a solid two-way player
to climb poles
and program computers.
in the rafters above the heater that warmed my sleeping sister
(my brother and I both wielding broken sticks)
I watched him score below us:
from the blue-line pumping,
then gliding in from the boards
like the light dust that runs along the walls
and curves in the corners of our house.
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