As usual, I don’t remember what I was thinking when I wrote “Inflection Point.” I do remember that it came about from a workshop discussion of Will Alexander’s Across the Vapour Gulph. A student commented on the line “Say I climb the ladder of wheat.” A fabulous line! We were all jazzed by it, and made up a prompt where everyone should start a poem with it. I always write with my students, so that’s how the poem came to be.
Nathan Hoks on "Inflection Point" |
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Robin Myers on Finding Her Way as a Translator
The problem with loving a place isn’t love but reciprocity. It’s easy to love with your senses, to thrill at the sensation of being swept up in something enormous, a tiny cog in a vast and beautiful wheel. It’s easy to marvel at the mountains in the distance, occasionally visible through the smog from the valley they once cleaved. Their nearness is a solace. You could get there if you wanted to. But you don’t want to: you want to be here, in the middle of the human swirl, swallowed up. You hear yourself say it: I love this place. Which doesn’t have to love you back.
via LOS ANGELES REVIEW OF BOOKS |
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What Sparks Poetry:
Michael Dumanis on Natalie Eilbert's Overland
"The word 'overland' connotes an arduous journey, a direct engagement with the environment and the vicissitude of nature. Broken into its constituent parts, 'over land,' the term is also the root of global disputes, why nations go to war. 'Over' can mean about, but also done, finis, kaput. But this is more a book of journey through life than despair at it." |
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