You've got a pile of poems sitting in a Google Doc or scribbled in a Moleskine. They’re good. Or maybe they’re just "okay," but they’re yours, and you want someone other than your cat to read them. But the minute you start looking for where to submit poems, you hit a wall of academic jargon, "closed for reading" notices, and literary journals that haven't updated their websites since 2004. It’s frustrating. Honestly, the literary world can feel like a private club where no one told you the password.
Most people think you just email a poem to The New Yorker and wait for a check. That’s a fantasy. In reality, the submission game is a mix of research, thick skin, and understanding which editor is actually going to vibe with your specific style. Whether you write gritty confessional stuff or experimental erasure poetry, there is a home for it. You just have to find the right door.
The Strategy Behind Choosing Where to Submit Poems
Don't just spray and pray. If you send a rhyming sonnet about your grandmother to a journal that only publishes "avant-garde post-language digital poetry," you are wasting everyone's time. Especially yours.
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Before you hit send, look at the "Masthead." If the editors all have PhDs from Iowa, they might have a specific aesthetic. If the journal looks like a DIY zine from a basement in Brooklyn, they might want something raw. Check their past issues. Most journals offer "Sample Poems" or archives for free. Read them. If you hate everything they’ve published in the last three years, don’t send them your work. It’s a bad match.
Understanding Simultaneous Submissions
This is the golden rule. Simultaneous submissions mean sending the same poem to multiple places at once. Most journals allow this now because they know they take six months to reply. If The Threepenny Review says "no simultaneous submissions," they mean it. Respect that. If they catch you, you’re blacklisted. But for 90% of the market, you can broadcast your work. Just remember: the second someone accepts your poem, you must immediately email every other journal and withdraw it. It’s basic etiquette.
High-Tier Journals (The "Dream" List)
If you’re aiming for the top, these are the heavy hitters. They pay well, they carry prestige, and their rejection rates are terrifying—often over 99%.
Poetry Magazine is the big one. Published by the Poetry Foundation in Chicago, it’s been around since 1912. They pay $10 per line, with a $300 minimum. That’s huge for a poem. They use a system called Submittable, which is basically the industry standard for sending work.
The Paris Review is another titan. They don't use Submittable for poetry; they often require postal mail or have very specific digital windows. It’s old school. It’s prestigious. It’s where legends live.
The Kenyon Review and Ploughshares are academic-leaning but incredibly influential. Getting into these can literally launch a career or help you get into an MFA program. But let's be real: starting here as a beginner is like trying to bench press 400 pounds on your first day at the gym. It’s possible, but you’ll probably just get a sore ego.
Mid-Tier and Independent Gems
This is where most of the actual "soul" of the poetry world lives. These journals are often run by passionate volunteers or small university departments. They care deeply about the craft.
- Rattle: They are incredibly transparent. They have a "Poets Respond" section for poems about current events and a massive annual prize. They even have a podcast where they talk to contributors.
- The Sun: Not strictly a poetry journal, but they publish beautiful, accessible, human-centric work. They pay very well—often $100 to $250 per poem.
- Sixth Finch: Great for more modern, "weird," or image-heavy work. Their website is clean, and they have a fast turnaround compared to the "big guys."
- Thrush: They love "lyric" poetry. If your work sounds like music, try them.
Using Tools to Find Your Niche
You shouldn't be Googling "poetry journals" every day. There are databases that do the heavy lifting for you.
The Submission Grinder is a godsend. It’s free. It tracks response times so you can see if a journal is actually reading or if they’ve gone MIA. You can filter by pay, genre, and length. Duotrope is the paid version of this ($50 a year), and while it’s better for fiction, many poets swear by it for the sheer volume of data.
Poets & Writers (P&W) has a massive database of literary magazines. It’s the "Old Reliable" of the industry. They vet the publications, so you know you aren’t sending your work to a scammy "vanity" publisher that will charge you $50 to see your own poem in print. Never pay to be published. Contests have entry fees—that's normal—but a regular submission should almost always be free or a nominal $3 fee to cover the Submittable costs.
Why Rejection is Actually Information
You’re going to get rejected. A lot. I’ve seen poets with books out who still get 50 rejections for every one acceptance.
It’s not always about quality. Sometimes the editor just published three poems about "winter" and yours is the fourth. Sometimes they’re full for the issue. Sometimes the editor had a headache when they read your piece.
A "Tier 1" rejection is a form letter. A "Tier 2" rejection is a form letter that says "we liked this, but it’s not for us." A "Tier 3" rejection is a personal note from the editor. If an editor writes "Please send more work" or "I liked the imagery in the third stanza," you have won. That is a massive victory. Put that journal on your "priority" list for next time.
The Digital vs. Print Debate
Print journals feel better in your hand. There's something about seeing your name on physical paper. However, digital journals often have more "reach." A poem in an online journal can be tweeted, shared on Instagram, and read by thousands of people instantly. A print journal might have a circulation of 500 copies that sit on library shelves. Think about what you want: the "object" or the "audience."
Practical Steps to Get Published
First, fix your formatting. Standard is Times New Roman, 12pt, single-spaced, one poem per page. Unless you are doing concrete poetry where the shape matters, don’t use "fun" fonts. It looks amateur.
Second, write a boring cover letter. Seriously. Editors don't want your life story. They want:
- Your name.
- The titles of the poems you're sending.
- A short (3-sentence) bio in the third person.
- A list of a few places you've been published before (if any).
If you have no credits, just say "This is my first submission." Everyone started there. Editors actually love "discovering" new voices. It makes them feel like they're doing their job.
Third, track everything. Use an Excel sheet or a Notion board. Write down:
- Title of the poem
- Where you sent it
- Date sent
- Status (Pending, Accepted, Rejected)
- The link to the submission guidelines (you will forget them).
Avoiding the "Vanity" Trap
Be careful. If a "publisher" emails you saying they loved your poem on Instagram and want to include it in an anthology—but you have to pay $60 for the book—it's a scam. They aren't interested in your art; they’re interested in your credit card. Real literary journals make money through subscriptions and grants, not by charging their authors for the "honor" of being published.
Actionable Next Steps
- Select three poems that are finished. Not "almost finished," but polished.
- Sign up for a free Submittable account. Most journals use this platform, and it keeps your bio and files in one place.
- Visit The Submission Grinder and filter for "Poetry" and "Open Submissions."
- Find two "Reach" journals (the big ones) and three "Mid-tier" journals that match your style.
- Send them. Right now. Don't wait for "the perfect time." The perfect time is when the "Submit" button is clickable.
- Set a reminder for three months from today to check the status. In the meantime, write ten more poems.
The secret to knowing where to submit poems isn't finding a magic list; it's about building a workflow where submitting becomes as routine as brushing your teeth. The more you put yourself out there, the less the "No" hurts, and the closer you get to that first "Yes."
Keep your bio updated. Keep your files organized. Most importantly, keep reading the journals you want to be in. If you support the community, the community is much more likely to support you back.