Culhane, Dow, Nazarene, et. al.
Brian Culhane on “The Immortality Ode” Often, I turn to solo piano music for inspiration, with the great Bill Evans always high on my list. I owe this poem to him, as it came into being when I began one of his recordings and pictured his hands above the keyboard, waiting to enter the melody. That image, in turn, led
Clinton, Sholl, Aronson, et. al.
Robert Clinton on “Caroline” The woman Caroline was entirely different from the woman described in the poem “Caroline,” except insofar as she was attentive to her property and fond of the poet. The poem with its deceptions happened very quickly. I didn’t want to make an anti-Caroline, and I’m glad that, although nothing in the poem happened as written, everything
Berdeshevsky, Schwartz, Lindsay, et. al.
Margo Berdeshevsky, for AS THE LAND LISTENS : This is—the long distance call. I’ve been listening all my life. Days of death throes for love or democracy, not only in America, but worldwide. Dire intentions and cruelties of the powerful, globally. In America, some grand new voices, many of them, women, demanding life. After the end… after the beginning… But
DeNiord, Donnelly, McPherson, et. al.
Chard DeNiord on ‘The Other’ As a great admirer of Walt Whitman’s use of his transpersonal self—that “I” that is also other—throughout much of his work, I have for years attempted, often in vain, to find expression for my own transit to the other in a way that makes sublime sense; in a way that captures the personal as well
Pastan, Meinke, Dickow, et. al.
Hank Lazer on N33P14 and N33P29 The two poems/pages included in Plume 88 are from my ongoing Notebooks project – a little more than twelve years of exploring the possibilities for an improvisatory (no drafts) shape-writing. These two are from the 33rd notebook. With each page, I mark the location in time and place. The first of these, in Honolulu
Gregerson, Jacob, Callihan, et. al.
Linda Gregerson on “The Wayfarer” If one were to open the wooden panels on which this painting appears, one would behold a triptych known as The Haywain, also by Hieronymous Bosch. Surrounding the massive hay wagon from which the triptych takes its name is a dizzying assemblage of figures and micro-narratives of the sort for which Bosch is famous: angels
Scheffler, Lindsay, Nuernberger, et.al
Adam Scheffler on “Charade” I think of this poem as a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster. I write poems in batches, filling up a journal until it’s full, and then typing it up, editing it extensively, and discarding most of what I’ve written. The discarded poems and pieces all then end up in a massive Word document I think of
Fagan, Solomon, Codrescu, et.al.
Kathy Fagan on “Fountain” I think “Fountain” is a poem about plans and patterns, how they grow, change and break, how they leave their mark, literally and figuratively. I was interested in thinking through those concepts in the lineation of the poem also, within its units of observation and meditation. I recently lost my mom, and my partner and
Heather Altfeld, Gregory Orr, Donald Revell, et.al.
Heather Altfeld on “The Island to Remind You of Your Childhood” About ten years ago, I decided to teach my young daughters to fish. We cranked up our 1991 Volvo station wagon and went in search of a primitive campground in the Trinity Alps. At a store near Coffee Creek, a woman offered to show my girls how to
Christopher Buckley, Nicole Callihan, Chris Forhan, et.al
Christopher Buckley on ”I’m Nothing” “I’m nothing” has seen many incarnations . . . a longer poem, longer lines, more lyricism, until cut down to this final version. Most of my poems see many revisions over a good deal of time; this saw more. While engaging my usual subjects touching on childhood, science and physics, and the faith vs. doubt