What poets changed the way you thought about writing?
To name just two of many—reading Raul Zurita’s Song for His Disappeared Love (translated by Daniel Borzutsky) was for me like remembering poetry’s original task. Then there is Alice Notley’s The Descent of Alette—intensely archetypal, moving through naming/healing not as a given but as an experiment.
What are you working on?
I usually find myself working on many projects at once. Soonish, I would like to turn my attention to putting together my next manuscript. I have been writing away since the manuscript of Bright Parallel went out, albeit without concerning myself with the shape of how these poems flow together. Assembling a book can be a transfiguring project, and I’m looking forward to seeing what will show up through its frame.
How does a poem begin?
When a poem wants to begin, it often arrives—as image, clustering words, phrases /marked/ notch of significance, uncanny palm pressing outward against the heart.
What poetry books have you been reading lately?
The Penguin Book of Indian Poets, edited by Jeet Thayil, just arrived in the mail—it is the first book you will see on my coffee table stacked with reads—not the least because it is an extensive compilation, featuring 94 poets—including some of my work!
Also: rob mclennan’s chapbook Autobiography. Katie Schaag’s chapbook The Infinite Woman. Mei-mei Berssenbrugge’s A Treatise on Stars.
Why is poetry important?
If we are to steal (or claim) what will be lost to (or stolen by) three-dimensional temporal thoroughfares, we need devices and forms that blend both trickery and sincerity. Poetry can do that. It can also amplify—and celebrate.
