tracks curve or taxis
block the rails. Maybe we’re the ones
curving. Get to the end
we hop off. All day
we don’t know and it rains we walk
with canes for umbrellas. Maybe it’s
the wine we’re about to drink two euros
a bottle. Mornings we catch
BBC World Service. Pakistan will never know
Kashmir again. We lay out our streets in
a grid after earthquakes. The trams
move slow or topple. We start a page
and down the hill turn it filling
the square like birds
hopping on tables. Meet
the quake of ’14 though
nothing yet has fallen.
Lisbon, Jan.28, 2014
Questions and Answers
What inspired you to pursue poetry?
Reading. Reading anything as a kid. Reading Al Purdy and early Michael Ondaatje as a poet. Without reading, there cannot be writing.
Do you use any resources that a young poet would find useful (e.g., books, film, art, websites, etc)?
We don’t need much as writers. Commitment to readiness—aka attentiveness, curiosity, willingness to play with language—belief in the inherent story-ness of everything, and a notebook and a pen.
What inspired or motivated you to write this poem?
I was travelling in Europe and committed to a daily writing practice. Go to a coffee shop, pub, or plaza, open my notebook, and pay attention to what’s in front of me and what’s inside. Write freely in prose lines, with no other concept of form initially.