The Kenyon Review asks me a series of questions about my poem “Cry of the Occasion,” which appeared in The Kenyon Review‘s summer issue, including this exchange:
What have you learned about the writing process in the last five years?
I love, have always loved, that total world-silencing concentration, that “flow” state Csikszentmihalyi talks about: that’s my drug, but I’ve learned I can wear myself thin working toward that high. So I’ve learned to play more. I start working on a poem, and if it doesn’t come right away, I move to something else and then return to the first thing and go away again to a third thing and then come back to the second and the first—but there are maybe ten things at play. I’m waiting for something to step out of place and show one these elements in a new light or waiting for the ten things to combine in a way (imagine a Deerhunter song or Radiohead’s latest From the Basement session) to make an eleventh (or twenty-fifth) thing that becomes a poem.
Read the rest of the conversation here.