In one week of wandering here, I’d see Rockefeller’s grave, tacos topped with salad dressing, and an abandoned celestial observatory. I’d see a billboard warning of fentanyl donuts or S’Wonderful, the tchotchke store. Poetry can hold all that.
We’ve each written books that feel more personal and intimate to share (particularly at readings) than we expected. . . We both feel naked in front of the classroom, so to speak.