Please tell us about the making of “Pardon My French, But You’re an Asshole” and “Believe the Lie.”
“Believe the Lie” was written last fall when I was fortunate to be part of a mostly Chicago-based writing group doing poem-a-day during October via email thread. I wrote that poem drawing out every fourth line from a page of notes I’d handwritten while working at a community college writing center. The ending combines my favorite lines from John Milton’s “Lycidas” and my friend Caolan Madden’s poem “Burn/Marry/Burn.” The other poem, “Pardon My French, But You’re an Asshole” was written in much the same way but extremely recently.
If you were to trace your poetic lineage, which two poets are you directly descended from?
Having just re-read The Descent of Alette again, I can see freshly how in my poems I’m often gesturing toward Alice Notley. Another germinal text for me many years ago now was Lyn Hejinian’s essay “The Rejection of Closure.” Sometimes I think readers want more shame from my work, and rather than withholding juicy, sexy shame, I think what I do more aspires to the world-building evident in Notley and Hejinian.
How do you go about titling poems?
Titles always used to stress me out. I didn’t title a poem really for probably at least three years. My forthcoming book, Quite Apart, coming out next year with University of Akron Press, has titled sections but no individual poem titles. Lately, though, I’m using hugely long titles as a way of counterbalancing abstract-ish poems with a narrativizing title.
Which common piece of writing advice do you loathe and why?
“Write what you know.” Nobody knows shit.
What rituals or routines do you have to help maintain your writing practice?
I read at least a few pages every day. Lately, I have a bedtime note-taking routine that works unless I’m very tired. Then I just fall asleep with a bunch of stuff piled on my bed and the light on. When it works, I write some notes or lines of a poem when my brain is loose.
“Believe the Lie” was written last fall when I was fortunate to be part of a mostly Chicago-based writing group doing poem-a-day during October via email thread. I wrote that poem drawing out every fourth line from a page of notes I’d handwritten while working at a community college writing center. The ending combines my favorite lines from John Milton’s “Lycidas” and my friend Caolan Madden’s poem “Burn/Marry/Burn.” The other poem, “Pardon My French, But You’re an Asshole” was written in much the same way but extremely recently.
If you were to trace your poetic lineage, which two poets are you directly descended from?
Having just re-read The Descent of Alette again, I can see freshly how in my poems I’m often gesturing toward Alice Notley. Another germinal text for me many years ago now was Lyn Hejinian’s essay “The Rejection of Closure.” Sometimes I think readers want more shame from my work, and rather than withholding juicy, sexy shame, I think what I do more aspires to the world-building evident in Notley and Hejinian.
How do you go about titling poems?
Titles always used to stress me out. I didn’t title a poem really for probably at least three years. My forthcoming book, Quite Apart, coming out next year with University of Akron Press, has titled sections but no individual poem titles. Lately, though, I’m using hugely long titles as a way of counterbalancing abstract-ish poems with a narrativizing title.
Which common piece of writing advice do you loathe and why?
“Write what you know.” Nobody knows shit.
What rituals or routines do you have to help maintain your writing practice?
I read at least a few pages every day. Lately, I have a bedtime note-taking routine that works unless I’m very tired. Then I just fall asleep with a bunch of stuff piled on my bed and the light on. When it works, I write some notes or lines of a poem when my brain is loose.