THE WORCESTER COUNTY POETRY ASSOCIATION ANNUAL FRANK O'HARA PRIZE:

  

PLEASE READ COMPLETE CONTEST GUIDELINES BEFORE ENTERING! ENTRIES NOT MEETING THE GUIDELINES WILL BE DISQUALIFIED. WE CANNOT REFUND THE SUBMISSION FEE FOR ENTRIES THAT DO NOT MEET THE GUIDELINES. 

WHO IS ELIGIBLE:

• ONLY CURRENT MEMBERS OF THE WORCESTER COUNTY POETRY ASSOCIATION (WCPA), RESIDENTS OF WORCESTER COUNTY, OR THOSE WHO WORK OR ATTEND SCHOOL IN WORCESTER COUNTY ARE ELIGIBLE TO ENTER. Entries from people who do not meet this criteria will be disqualified.
• Previous first place winners are not eligible.

JUDGING AND AWARDS:

The 2014 judge is poet B.J. Ward

• First Place: $100 / Second Place: $50 / Third Place $25
• Winning poems are published in The Worcester Review, after which all rights revert to the poet
• Contest winners will be announced June 2014
• The Winners' Reading and Award Reception will take place in September 2014
• Winners will be notified by phone. All other entrants will be notified of the results electronically.
• WCPA does not pre-select poems. All entries are seen by the judge.

ENTRY FEE:

• There is no entry fee for active WCPA Members, although a one-time administrative fee of $1.50 to Tell it Slant applies if you enter online. This is comparable to the cost of postage for a traditional mail submission. If you enter as a member but our records indicate that you are not a member, your work will be disqualified.
• Non-WCPA Members: Submit 5 poems for a fee of $5.50 (plus a $1.50 administrative fee to Tell it Slant if you apply online). Note that if you are not a WCPA member, you are only elgible if you reside, work, or attend school in Worcester County. Submissions from people who do not meet this criteria will be dismissed. We cannot refund the submission fee for those who fail to read these directions.
• You may join also WCPA now to be eligible to enter.  To become a member of the WCPA, visit our website and follow the instructions (http://www.worcestercountypoetry.org/Membership.html). As long as your membership form and check arrive by April 1, your work will be eligible. 

GUIDELINES:

• Poems must be the original work of the entrant, in English, and not previously published.
• DO NOT put your name ANYWHERE on your manuscript. If your name appears anywhere on the manuscript, your entry will be disqualified.

HOW TO ENTER:

• Enter online via The Worcester Review's submissions page on Tell it Slant or by sending your submission via traditional mail to The Worcester County Poetry Association, Attn Contest Chair, 1 Ekman St, Worcester, MA 01607
• For traditional submissions, include a cover letter with your name, mailing address, and phone number, as well as a list of the titles of your poems. Non-WCPA Members, include a check for $5.00 to the WCPA. 
• For online submissions: WCPA MEMBERS: Enter in the "WCPA Member Contest Entry" Genre. In the "submitters comments" field, enter your name, complete street address, and phone number so that we may verify your membership status. Be sure your name does not appear anywhere on your manuscript. Non-WCPA MEMBERS: Enter in the "Non-Member Contest Entry" Genre. In the "submitters comments" field, enter your name, complete street address, and phone number. If you work or study in Worcester County, but do not live in Worcester County, indicate that as well, so that we can verify your eligiblity for this contest. Be sure your name does not appear anywhere on your manuscript.

Poet Interview: Jody Azzouni

Jody Azzouni has a Ph.D in Philosophy and a M.S. in Mathematics. His first philosophy book, Metaphysical Myths, Mathematical Practices: The Ontology and Epistemology of the Exact Sciences, was published in 1994. Since then, he has published more philosophy, which can be found here. He also enjoys writing fiction and poetry. 


As a philosophy professor at Tufts University, what do you think is the hardest aspect of your subject to teach to the students?

Patience. That’s the hardest thing to teach. That’s the hardest thing to learn too. Philosophical problems are difficult. They’re difficult in the sense that none of the easy answers work. By “easy answers” I mean the sorts of answers that really smart people come up with between half an hour and half a lifetime of thinking about them. It’s really tempting to try to undercut these problems with some offhand glibness; but if you take your time you learn to appreciate what it is about philosophical problems that make them so resistant to quick moves and cheap shots. Why some of them have lasted a thousand years or so without being solved.

Can you explain how anyone can find relations between philosophy and another subject (e.g. math, science, language or logic)?

It’s not so much that there are relations between philosophy and other subject areas; it’s that thinking about those subject areas (or how we do what we do in those subject areas) gives rise to philosophical problems. Logicians simply “do” logic: they prove results about logic or in logic. Mathematics is similar.

But philosophers, for example, worry about the kind of knowledge we have in logic and mathematics, and how that kind of knowledge fits in with other kinds of knowledge. For example, proof (when you think about it) is really quite amazing. It has quite peculiar properties. It doesn't look the same in mathematics as it does elsewhere. Mathematical proofs are quite intricate and can be, especially these days, extremely long. They are also very convincing. It seems impossible to generate the same kinds of successful and convincing proofs, that we do about mathematical objects (triangles, Hilbert spaces, etc.) if we instead use ordinary concepts such as house, or snake, or wrongful behavior, and so on. But why exactly?

At just this point the question has become philosophical. This is, in part, because no one else wants to take up the problem and really try to appreciate how hard it is to answer it. (So that brings us back to my answer to your first question.) Philosophical issues arise in pretty much the same way with respect to other subject matters. A rough rule of thumb: if the question you've raised looks intractable and conceptual, then no matter what vocabulary it’s couched in (biological, mathematical, aesthetic, etc.), it’s probably a philosophical problem.

How do you make the subject fun for the students to learn?

Well, a big part of it is showing why what you’re talking about is interesting. (So this is surely true: If you don’t find it interesting, don’t try to teach it to anyone else.) But a lot involves all the standard pedagogical tricks: move around a lot, make sure the room is coldish (not warm), make jokes. (By “jokes,” I mean real jokes—not those pedantic things some people think are funny.) And most important, listen to the students, and watch them. See what they’re getting and not getting. Ask. It’s just like having a conversation with someone, really. How do you prevent yourself from boring the other person when you explain something? Watch them to see when they've lost you. Be entertaining (at least a little bit). And, of course, be on top of what you’re talking about. (That helps too.)

What interested you in pursuing a career in philosophy? When did this interest come about?

When I was twelve I found a box of books and read all of them. One of the books was by this guy named David Hume. It talked about ideas and how they were copies of impressions—except for a certain shade of blue. It talked about the various ways that ideas are associated in the mind. I thought it was a psychology book: sort of like Freud but without any sex. I didn't know until years later who Hume was. And you’re right—I did a lot of “studying” but all my life most of that studying has been idle reading. I've read constantly from the time I learned how. And I read whatever I wanted to. It just happened to be that most of what I wanted to read was “highbrow.” Unless it was assigned to me in school. Then I usually refused to read it. (This was my problem until college.)

I certainly didn't intend to “pursue a career in philosophy.” That was a complete accident. To me a career in philosophy just meant being a professor. (I had no interest in teaching as a career.) I intended to major in English when I went to college: I wanted to continue writing fiction and poetry—and eventually live in a hotel somewhere in Switzerland or something once I became famous (and rich). But I didn't like the English major requirements: too much of them telling me what I was required to study. I knew what I liked and what I didn't like.

The philosophy department, instead, required only ten courses in whatever I wanted—nothing specific. I liked that. So I majored in philosophy. I took more than enough undergraduate English courses to have majored twice over—at least as far as the number of courses was concerned. But I wasn't going to take a course just because I was required to. An actual commitment to philosophy came slowly—I deviated into higher mathematics for a couple of years. I've kept all these specific interests; but I also eventually realized that I had a lot to say that was philosophical. I needed to recognize that many of the issues I was raising about whatever I was studying were philosophical issues. My issues didn't come with labels telling me what academic discipline was the best place to study them.

Sample Poems from Volume XXXIV

Jody Azzouni

 

The reflection yearns

 

 

Winged grace

echoed in the water:

a ripple fishing for attention.

 

You deny its hope: sidelong

it out of existence.

 

We don't remember the twin

we bury.

 

 

 

When that last snowflake has been stamped out

 

 

We come to

our senses; green

explodes.  The blinking dew

feeds us awake.

 

Hope is

   eternally spring.