Touch the Donkey supplement: new interviews with Hunter, Nećakov, Logan, Thomas, Brandt + Buuck, (and 8th anniversary subscription sale!

Anticipating the release later next week of the thirty-third of Touch the Donkey [a small poetry journal], why not check out the interviews that have appeared over the past few weeks with contributors to the thirty-second issue: Carrie Hunter, Lillian Nećakov, Nate Logan, Hugh Thomas, Emily Brandt and David Buuck.

And did you hear about our 8th anniversary (subscription) sale, running throughout the month of April (and featuring the above/ground press backlist)?

Interviews with contributors to the first thirty-two issues (more than two hundred interviews to date) remain online, including: Jessi MacEachern, Sue Bracken, Melissa Eleftherion, Valerie Witte, Brandon Brown, Yoyo Comay, Stephen Brockwell, Jack Jung, Amanda Auerbach, IAN MARTIN, Paige Carabello, Emma Tilley, Dana Teen Lomax, Cat Tyc, Michael Turner, Sarah Alcaide-Escue, Colby Clair Stolson, Tom Prime, Bill Carty, Christina Vega-Westhoff, Robert Hogg, Simina Banu, MLA Chernoff, Geoffrey Olsen, Douglas Barbour, Hamish Ballantyne, JoAnna Novak, Allyson Paty, Lisa Fishman, Kate Feld, Isabel Sobral Campos, Jay MillAr, Lisa Samuels, Prathna Lor, George Bowering, natalie hanna, Jill Magi, Amelia Does, Orchid Tierney, katie o’brien, Lily Brown, Tessa Bolsover, émilie kneifel, Hasan Namir, Khashayar Mohammadi, Naomi Cohn, Tom Snarsky, Guy Birchard, Mark Cunningham, Lydia Unsworth, Zane Koss, Nicole Raziya Fong, Ben Robinson, Asher Ghaffar, Clara Daneri, Ava Hofmann, Robert R. Thurman, Alyse Knorr, Denise Newman, Shelly Harder, Franco Cortese, Dale Tracy, Biswamit Dwibedy, Emily Izsak, Aja Couchois Duncan, José Felipe Alvergue, Conyer Clayton, Roxanna Bennett, Julia Drescher, Michael Cavuto, Michael Sikkema, Bronwen Tate, Emilia Nielsen, Hailey Higdon, Trish Salah, Adam Strauss, Katy Lederer, Taryn Hubbard, Michael Boughn, David Dowker, Marie Larson, Lauren Haldeman, Kate Siklosi, robert majzels, Michael Robins, Rae Armantrout, Stephanie Strickland, Ken Hunt, Rob Manery, Ryan Eckes, Stephen Cain, Dani Spinosa, Samuel Ace, Howie Good, Rusty Morrison, Allison Cardon, Jon Boisvert, Laura Theobald, Suzanne Wise, Sean Braune, Dale Smith, Valerie Coulton, Phil Hall, Sarah MacDonell, Janet Kaplan, Kyle Flemmer, Julia Polyck-O’Neill, A.M. O’Malley, Catriona Strang, Anthony Etherin, Claire Lacey ,Sacha Archer, Michael e. Casteels, Harold Abramowitz, Cindy Savett, Tessy Ward, Christine Stewart, David James Miller, Jonathan Ball, Cody-Rose Clevidence, mwpm, Andrew McEwan, Brynne Rebele-Henry, Joseph Mosconi, Douglas Barbour and Sheila Murphy, Oliver Cusimano, Sue Landers, Marthe Reed, Colin Smith, Nathaniel G. Moore, David Buuck, Kate Greenstreet, Kate Hargreaves, Shazia Hafiz Ramji, Erín Moure, Sarah Swan, Buck Downs, Kemeny Babineau, Ryan Murphy, Norma Cole, Lea Graham, kevin mcpherson eckhoff, Oana Avasilichioaei, Meredith Quartermain, Amanda Earl, Luke Kennard, Shane Rhodes, Renée Sarojini Saklikar, Sarah Cook, François Turcot, Gregory Betts, Eric Schmaltz, Paul Zits, Laura Sims, Stephen Collis, Mary Kasimor, Billy Mavreas, damian lopes, Pete Smith, Sonnet L’Abbé, Katie L. Price, a rawlings, Suzanne Zelazo, Helen Hajnoczky, Kathryn MacLeod, Shannon Maguire, Sarah Mangold, Amish Trivedi, Lola Lemire Tostevin, Aaron Tucker, Kayla Czaga, Jason Christie, Jennifer Kronovet, Jordan Abel, Deborah Poe, Edward Smallfield, ryan fitzpatrick, Elizabeth Robinson, nathan dueck, Paige Taggart, Christine McNair, Stan Rogal, Jessica Smith, Nikki Sheppy, Kirsten Kaschock, Lise Downe, Lisa Jarnot, Chris Turnbull, Gary Barwin, Susan Briante, derek beaulieu, Megan Kaminski, Roland Prevost, Emily Ursuliak, j/j hastain, Catherine Wagner, Susanne Dyckman, Susan Holbrook, Julie Carr, David Peter Clark, Pearl Pirie, Eric Baus, Pattie McCarthy, Camille Martin and Gil McElroy.

The forthcoming thirty-third issue features new writing by: Howie Good, Jérôme Melançon, Genevieve Kaplan, Cecilia Stuart, ryan fitzpatrick, Benjamin Niespodziany, Maw Shein Win, Margo LaPierre, Sarah Pinder and Michael Boughn.

And of course, copies of the first thirty-two issues are still very much available. Why not subscribe? Included, as well, as part of the above/ground press 2022 subscriptions! We even have our own Facebook group. It’s remarkably easy.

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Emily Brandt

Emily Brandt is the author of Falsehood, as well as three poetry chapbooks: Sleeptalk Or Not At All, ManWorld and Behind Teeth. Her poems have appeared in many journals including LitHub, The Recluse, and Washington Square Review, and anthologies including Inheriting the War and Brooklyn Poets Anthology. She’s been in residence at Saltonstall Arts Colony and was a 2016 Emerging Poets Fellow at Poets House. She earned her BA in Psychology, English, and Women’s Studies from Boston University, her M.Ed from Pace University, and an MFA from New York University, where she facilitated the Veterans Writing Workshop. Emily is a co-founding editor of No, Dear, curator of the LINEAGE reading series at Wendy’s Subway, and an Instructional Coach at a NYC public school. She’s of Sicilian, Polish and Ukrainian descent.

1 - How did your first book or chapbook change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

It just felt really good to publish that first chapbook, and it felt even better to publish the first book. It's nice to have a tangible manifestation of my creative labor, in my hands and released out into the hands of friends and strangers. I don't know that my life has changed much, but it does feel different, feels grounding.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?

If I go back to my earliest notebooks and journals, since age 6 or so, they are filled with poems. I don't think anyone was reading poems to me, so I don't even know where I got such an idea, but they always made sense to me - their juxtaposition of tight economy of language with total freedom of thought, image and association. I find constructing a plot to be very laborious and have deep admiration, but no envy, for fiction writers. And full disclosure, reading The Artist's Way in my 20s sealed the deal for me, and that's when I applied to poetry school. 

3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?

Well, it depends. I have one very careful long-term writing "project" involving sonnets about airplanes that comes with copious note-taking, brainstorming, and revision upon revision. Some of those poems appear in the anthology Inheriting the War, edited by Laren McClung. I both love and hate working like that, and it's taking me forever. The poems in my first book, Falsehood, are not part of a project, but came as individual poems which I eventually grouped together and did a sort of holistic revision. I kept some of the poems in the collection very loose, very sprawling and close to the first draft. And others are super tight, formally. I like vacillating between constriction and expansion. 

4 - Where does a poem usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?

On a lucky day, a poem will begin with a word or line that just comes in. Most of the time, I begin in some sort of meditation, either silent or with music, and write from what comes up. As for the second question, both!

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

As a Leo, I like giving readings. I like to vibe how an audience reacts to a particular poem or moment. It helps clarify for me that elusive concept that what I write has a receiver, and though that's not the priority for me when creating, I do really like to think about how things will land on other ears and hearts. Reading publicly helps with that. 

6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current questions are?

I think a lot about binaries and how people/I internalize and interrogate binary thinking. I think a lot about intergenerational trauma, its methods of replication, and how to unravel it. I think about anger and how to let it be a teacher rather than a master.

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Does s/he even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?

I don't think there's one role for writers, but I do like that writers tell a multitude of truths, and that hopefully those truths challenge some people and comfort others. 

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?

I love getting feedback, and have experienced both hands-on and hands-off editors. For me the ideal is an editor who will give you lots to think about, but not make any demands. 

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?

Focus on your purpose over any product or goal. Like for me, poetry is a way to connect more deeply to myself and to other people. If I focus on authentic connection as the goal, I make better (defined broadly) poems and find them better (defined broadly) homes.

10 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?

I write down my dreams most mornings when I wake up. I write every day every June. Other than that, my writing is really sporadic, in bursts and fits. I do really well when I go someplace specifically to write, like a cafe or Wendy's Subway. When I stay home to write, I mostly just play with the dog.

11 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

Meditation. Music. Walks. Writing prompts from friends.

12 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

Basil.

13 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?

Yes to all of the above. I like to look at old maps, odd photos, shapes of plants. I like to listen to music while I write, but only sometimes.

14 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?

I feel really indebted to the writings of Muriel Rukeyser, and/but/also all of the living poets whose work I like to bathe in.

15 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

Spend a year abroad.

16 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?

Witch. By which (haha) I mean healer.

17 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

I am doing something else! Teacher, instructional coach, occasional essayist, editor, tarot reader, yogi, amateur herbalist and reluctant gardener, collagist, resentful taxpayer, dog-walker, macaroni eater blahdiblah.

18 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong. Midsommar.

19 - What are you currently working on?

A manuscript called COMPOSITION that weaves together Gertrude Stein, the history of Bushwick (Brooklyn), and the pieces I know of my maternal family's immigration history.

12or 20 (second series) questions;

Emily Brandt, Falsehood

I stuffed my bra with socks

I say I want to be her but I know

I want to touch her.

I make myself

a mannequin.

The bee’s stinger weaves

through blonde hair, traces map lines:

the way to the trail in the woods where the reeds

went up in flame, and to all the neighborhood pools,

which water is warmest

and which will sting your eyes.

From brand-new New York State-based poetry publisher After Hours Editions comes Brooklyn-based poet Emily Brandt’s full-length poetry debut, Falsehood (New York/Kingston NY: After Hours Editions, 2020). I’ve been aware of, and quite taken with, Brandt’s editorial work for some time [see her 2017 “12 or 20 (small press)questions” interview on No, Dear here], but not been so aware of her own writing, and I’ve been appreciating the opportunity to delve into what she’s been up to. Structured in five numbered sections, the poems Brandt’s Falsehood engage with a deep attention of her surrounding, from the direct to the surreal and into the peripheries, working to piece together attention, meditation and how disparate actions and considerations might unexpectedly connect. “I want to live in a body,” she writes, to open the poem “Eyes Knees Groin Throat,” “that could hurt other bodies.” There are scraps of violence that emerge in her poems, predominantly a gendered and parental violence, wrapped up in a notion of gender the narrator or narrators of her poems respond to. Sometimes those responses appear in kind, but in a way that works to articulate and respond to those original assaults. Her poems struggle to move past those histories while simultaneously rising above, deploying poetry as a strategy through which to move forward. As the poem ends:

I like to think my body could be that large. I walk down

the street and pound the faces of the mermaids

and their delicious tails. I want to live in a body

that can swim across a channel. I want to fear myself

and never carry a gun. If I were born a cock

my father would have bit it off and taught me to do pull ups.

I would swell and swell. And perform well against a punching bag

until I got a girlfriend. I would stuff

the first of my father into my ribcage

and grow a man around it.

Brandt’s poems read as being deeply personal, working through first-person histories one would suspect belong equally to both author and narrator, but don’t need to necessarily be so (nor does it matter). She is a storyteller in short essays in lyric narratives, working to tell you something that might seem obvious at first, until it doesn’t, before her real purpose emerges.

I want to say the sentences in Brandt’s poems are constructed via accumulation, but they direct more than pile, connecting even at points when, at first, they might not; instead her sentences domino, one leading into and through the next, threading towards something further. There is even something rhythmically interesting in how she switches from an accumulation of single lines to a stanza of line breaks, such as the poem “Man revises nature,” that includes:

Flowers are expensive for a reason.

All the lines radiate from the center.

We have a lot to learn as a species.

Our ancestors crossed very cold spaces.

If I were us, we would have surely died.

Everyone comes over and walks down

spiral steps. Sometimes someone ends up bleeding.

The piano hasn’t been tuned for three years

but the man who tunes it has small hands

so we will be okay. Some strings go AWOL

and others march in line. I was in a bell choir

when I was a child. That nun could play

but couldn’t sing. Me neither. Many nuns

have survived violent fathers.