Bryan Gattozzi said that writers write about four things: place, love, death, and work at our reading at the jailhouse in Fred Fuller Park this past Thursday in Kent. Going back reminded me of what the Ohio poetic is---the praise of the landscape, of flatness and sun, winter and industry. One of the scholarship winners had a poem with a line about carrying Ohio in her eye. Going back made me realize, I have it in my eyes too, even though I think I have shifted away from a certain kind of narrative, there is a thread of images, trying to tell a story in some way. Alice and I talked about community in her office and what it's like when your radius is a small town, how you run in to the same people, how you naturally have the seeds, and yes, you have to nurture them, but the soil is good. The bigger the place, perhaps the more you have to tend. Jillian really loves Kent and after walking around in the community garden at the apple orchard, I can see why. And late at night, watching the clouds roll across the moon at my father's, and the sun set while driving with my mother, I can think of nothing better than an Ohio sky. Here is where I come from:
Sorry for the lack of linking--the anti-virus is preventing pop ups and I haven't quite figured out how to remedy this on my computer yet.
Though I have to say, I think I've found something here in DC--there is a DC poetic (Kim Roberts of Beltway put together a special issue of poems about DC) and Rod Smith and Dan Gutstein among others have an epicenter of avant garde (dare I use the term) poetics. For more on this, there's a great interview in this issue of Beltway. And then there's No Tell Motel and Burlesque with Reb, and Natalie has Mother Tongue and Washington Writers' Publishing House. I'm so lucky to have met Moira, Piotr, and now hearing about the Annapolis scene, so I'd have to say the soil in DC is pretty good too. Ripe for pumpkins, that's Sunday's plan.