Can you remember the first poem you ever wrote? Read?
I was around eight years old, and a friend of the family had died. I didn’t know this person, but I wanted to make a card to convey my sympathy during a time of sadness. It made intuitive sense to me that a poem was the best way to acknowledge grief. So I wrote a rhymed poem and printed it very carefully inside a homemade card and gave it to my parents to take to the funeral. I don’t think I wrote another poem until high school, but the elegiac impulse is with me, even now. As for the first poem I read, I’m sure it was something by Shel Silverstein. The first poem that I remember having a dramatic impact on my life, however, was Denise Levertov’s “In Mind,” which my senior English teacher, Ms. Kaz, brought for us to read and discuss on the first day of AP American Lit. I remember I volunteered to read the poem, and then I answered all the questions she asked about it, and later I transcribed the poem in my calligraphy class and hung it on my bedroom wall. For all I know, it’s still there. In fact, I really hope it is.
What misconception about poetry bothers you most?
That poetry is intractable, impossible to understand, and not worth trying to understand. I teach a lot of poetry, even in classes that don’t have poetry in the course description, and I’m always saddened by how fearful some students are about the prospect of reading poems. I take it as my special mission to show them the possibilities of the poem, the incredible versatility of the genre. Books like Cornelius Eady’s Brutal Imagination, Denise Duhamel’s Kinky, Stacey Waite’s love poem to androgyny, A. Van Jordan’s M-A-C-N-O-L-I-A, James Allen Hall’s Now You’re the Enemy, Sandra Cisneros’ Loose Woman, Tony Hoagland’s What Narcissism Means to Me, and Marie Howe’s What the Living Do have all, in my experience, held open the doors to poetry for reticent students to step inside and join the celebration.
Favorite word? Least favorite?
I love so many words it’s hard to pare down, but there is a subset of words I especially enjoy. I call them “Wonky Words,” as wonky is one such word. For me, the best of the wonky words would have to be “kerfuffle.” I also like “waffle,” used as a verb. I hate the word “seminal” and am loathe to use it in a sentence (even this one!).
Considering the poems you write, what about yourself would surprise readers most?
My poems tend toward the melancholic, or at least the ruminative, a good portion of the time, but in real life, I am an exceptionally cheerful person. My partner has been known to call me “Cherry Merry Muffin,” and I deserve it.
Favorite writing environment (place, lighting, music, etc.)?
I will write anywhere I can, but I like best writing at home in the early morning quiet while it’s still dark outside. I make a pot of coffee, feed the cats, and park myself at my table near the window. I don’t listen to music while I write, but I do like to have a soft candle lit or a bunch of Christmas tree lights gathered together in a bright-white bouquet.
If every poet in history were forced into a cage-style death match, who would walk out alive?
Wow. That’s a tough one, and I don’t have a good answer. But if I were playing the ultimate poetic edition of Red Rover, I’d want the universe to send right over Quan Barry, Sandra Cisneros, Lucille Clifton, Mark Doty, Denise Duhamel, Cornelius Eady, T.S. Eliot, Jorie Graham, Marie Howe, Sharon Olds, Claudia Rankine, and Adrienne Rich—in alphabetical order, of course!