Once at a party, I had a conversation about how the letter "a" was based on the depiction of an ox (imagine the uppercase "A" upside down). Walking home, I thought about the recurrent tragedy of drought in Northeast Brazil (where my family is from) usually pictured with an image of cow bones on barren soil. I thought of my name, with those three "a"s, like three cow skulls, staring at me. That was the seed for this poem.
Ananda Lima on "ARROYO — 'Triste Bahia' —" |
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"The Rumpus Poetry Book Club Chats With Cynthia Dewi Oka"
"I think that was a big part of this book for me, was writing toward simultaneity. Both the multiplicity of worlds that I inhabit, and these experiences of extremity. Some of the most joyful organizing experiences I had, for instance, was with the Indonesian diaspora in Philadelphia, as the community was facing imminent ICE raids. And anyone who has been displaced knows that is a form of apocalypse."
via THE RUMPUS |
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What Sparks Poetry:
A Short List of Books Ilya Kaminsky Loved in 2021
"Kevin Young's music can be erotic, it can be surreal, it can be serious, revelatory, or playful, or all of this at once: 'Where the train once rained / through town / like a river, where the water // rose in early summer / & froze come winter— / where the moon // of the outhouse shone / its crescent welcome, / where the heavens opened // & the sun wouldn't quit— / past the gully or gulch / or holler or ditch // I was born.' Stones is a gorgeous book. No one writes like Kevin Young. Frankly, no one can." |
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