There were things at those tables, post-scuffle, that we wished we could say aloud but couldn’t—for shame, for fear, for lack of time. But there were many more things in the beautiful books I was reading that those poets and poems could not possibly have seen (refused to see?) in the barrooms, streets, and basements of New Jersey and New York. From those simultaneous silences, there’s a tremendous literature to be made.
Paulette Beete, whom I’ve known for years, asked if I’d be interviewed for the National Endowment for the Arts’ blog. She kindly threw me softballs, but I think I got to talk about some of the things I’m interested in and struggling with at the moment.