In In Their Words, writers published in The Feedsack answer questions about their work and sometimes read it aloud. This time it’s Trevor Owen Jones, whose three poems ran here on October 17.
Where do you write these days?
Most of the time at work on my breaks. I try to make time at home, rarely succeed. I carry a notebook around with me, and recently got a typewriter to try another approach to composition. The notebook still reigns though. There is however, not any time of the day I’m not in some way contemplating poetry, either mine or someone else’s. I’m reminded of Robert Graves’ intro to The White Goddess, “Who am I, you will ask, to warn you that she demands either whole-time service or none at all?” It has to be a full-time thing!
Who were the first poets you read?
Probably Kerouac, his influence was still big in the ’90s. I still am pretty captivated by spontaneous poetics as a method, even if I don’t think Kerouac was a particularly good poet. 2nd that really struck me is probably Dylan Thomas. It was like unlocking part of my brain.
Which poets or writers do you count as major influences in your work?
Hart Crane is someone I always think about. There is some kind of ideal there what he pulled off. I think I’m still very much in a developmental period, trying to get into journals and magazines, so frankly I know I conform to what ‘they’ may be looking for. Two poets I discovered for myself just this past year are Wanda Coleman and Larry Levis, and while stylistically I don’t really attempt to mimic them, I’ve found the existential basis of their lives and work pretty inspiring. Finally John Donne and Shakespeare, William Blake, the big fellas. I can read a line of theirs and immediately want to work on something.
Do you write every day or when the moment strikes?
Both! Honestly, I don’t write every day, as I have some ‘wordless’ days where there’s very little self-monologue. Other days it is just pouring out– doesn’t mean any of it’s good of course, but I try to get copy on the page– later I can go back and try to shape it, move stuff around.
“The gutter gains an acre / foot by foot.” An acre-foot is a measure of water, and the line break splits it in two. Take us through that break.
I often have dreams of surging water– tidal waves, floods, rising waters. I think I wanted to convey some of that raw natural power when water’s on the move is all.
“Slough Slog” ends on four words, “God is a swamp,” and the colon before them sets them up like a verdict. Did you know that was the ending when you started, or did the poem get you there?
Did not know! I keep coming back to the place of composition for this sort of thing. I think the best kind of poem doesn’t necessarily know where it’s going, neither does the poet, or the reader. This is why I say I still embrace spontaneous poetics – it’s not first thought best thought, because it’s all first thoughts. But who wants to read something utterly calculated and mapped out? I don’t.
“Peacocks at the Left Hand of Death and Time” is the only one of the three where every line starts with a capital letter. What made that the right form for this poem?
I write in various notebooks, and title them– this was one of the titles. Also, I’d been reading a lot of Lorca and am always lamenting how we in English have given up on the lyrical sense you can find in Spanish and Latin-American poetry. But we speak/write English! We actually have a very lyrical, lilting language that can be flowery and bold. Just normatively I think this is not accepted, for reasons I won’t soapbox about too much. But yes, lyricism in American English should make a comeback.
All three poems reach for the sacred or the occult: buddhas, walking on water, a memento mori, tarot. What draws you to that vocabulary, and do you see these three poems talking to each other?
You know it’s very fascinating you observed that and that certainly makes me think. Undoubtedly these poems were written at various times, not in short succession or consequence though. Like I said before, I still try to foster a “beginner’s mind” with poetry, trying to stay open, am still learning and trying to play catch-up, I have the enthusiasm of the neophyte, so to speak, so reflecting on what some of my content and its meaning is somewhat novel to me.
What’s your favorite of these three poems and why?
I am pretty enamored with prosody, rhythm and the musicality of words, so a poem is successful to me if it makes a small amount of music in the reader’s mind. For this reason, probably “Slough Slog” pulls off my obscure objective…
Are these three part of a larger manuscript, or what are you working on now?
Yes they are! I am still working on acceptances across the board but the idea is to take the best stuff eventually and shop a chapbook around. I’m not in a rush however, as this whole ‘poetry’ thing is much more of a process than about results of course.
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