The end of this poem seems to reject the
fundamental premise of the love poem: that you can send a message to
the beloved instead of communicating directly, in person. Do you trust
I don’t trust language at all, which is what makes it such an
attractive tool for expression. That is why the dictionary is my silent
boyfriend. We sext.
My poems do not privilege cerebral experimentation; my poems do intend
to instigate (or at last address) feelings, as a way to establish
empathy. So, you can say that all my poems are conscientiously love
poems. The degree to which they are affective/effective is the degree
to which I trust them. Plus, I love a good volta, which is why this
poem has a little orphan reroutement.
This poem bounces between sincerity and play, between earnestness and
punning. Do you think of those as opposing forces, or are they related
some other way?
I firmly credit playfulness and humor with facilitating, for me,
serious content. Both tonally and with puns, I rely on surprise and
juxtapositions for a sense-making ambush. If a reader is bored to
death, gravitas will not penetrate.
A letter-pressed edition of this poem, designed by Laura Capp and
printed at the University of Iowa Center for the Book, is available here