Who are you?
I don’t know. I’ve been reading Martin Buber trying to figure it out. I’ve also been trying to spend more time with real people instead of hiding out with imaginary creatures. I have a list of what I am—but who I am seems far away at the moment.
I think who is better experienced than understood—who exists in its relationship to others—it is the space between the players. Take the film Cat Dancers example, here is a girl, a boy, a cat—who they are seems to exist in the area of that triangle. I like to watch such areas take shape.
At the moment I’m trying really hard to be more of a player than a voyeur—to experience more—to be more who than what, but this is difficult.
What happened to you?
I started throwing up words—mostly phrases of from Shakespeare I couldn’t forget. I couldn’t stop being reflexive. Gagging—mostly when I shouldn’t—I became a poet. Those poems began telling stories.
Where have you been lately?
Underground. I’ve been letting people bury me alive to feel alive. A book came out of this; much like planting a garden, I planted myself and it grew into the book The Walled Wife. The Walled Wife will be published by Red Hen Press in 2017—you can smell its blooms then.
When did a poetry novel happen?
In the Circus of You: An Illustrated Novel in Poems, happened when I met the visual artist Cheryl Gross. We met because we made this (http://www.broadsidedpress.
And then we made this:
Why did poetry happen?
I’ve always wanted to fly. I keep trying. It mostly looks like falling. Poetry is between jumping and landing. I’m only happy when in the between-of-things.