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.
I think the invitation is very much there to root for the Predator as a kind of consequence for and corrective to the historically horrific behavior of humans.
If all we do is oppose suffering, we’ve missed out on something important. . . . We lose something of our humanity.
I’m not too interested in forms that don’t hold onto some sense of wildness, even if just under pressure.
What does it mean for young people who are still finding themselves to move through the world holding a secret?
My approach was very improvisational, very “yes and” . . . It was a practice of inclusion, of inviting in all the strays.
When something is false in a draft, it’s often because I haven’t yet seen a character with a fullness of heart.
Grief is a measuring of distances, ones that cannot be narrowed or crossed.
Jeff Alessandrelli and Alexis Orgera
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.
I wanted to see how much I could smuggle into this novel that isn’t necessarily aimed at the kind of readers I’m used to, like my friends or the broader literary community.