Anne F. Walker, Ink and Ink and Flesh and Length

 

Settling In

Unbelievably small roomette and a lounge car full of light. Full of people, fields, the bay the delta. Just stepping off and stepping in. I have crossed this country with my father, with my mother and sister. With my son and his father. Driven across with furniture as I migrated, first one way, then back. No Wi-Fi on this train. Lifting from Rosedale passing homes with green kidney shaped pools. Dry grassland. A smell of croissant moving through the cars before lunch. Voices waft in snippets, talk about a small round house, internet, taking the train, walking to a sale.

I’ve been aware of Anne F. Walker and her work for some time, aware that she was in Toronto during her early publishing career, having relocated to Berkeley, California for her doctoral work at UC Berkeley, and currently living and teaching in the San Francisco Bay Area. Her latest collection is the prose poem suite Ink and Ink and Flesh and Length (Eyewear Publishing Ltd./The Black Spring Press Group, 2025), a collection that self-describes on the back cover thusly: “These 100-word prose poems are contained. They spread between sections. They break out into themselves. They repeat. They reflect on landscapes, bodies, travel, time, and rooted memories, concentrating on precision of image, narrative, and language.” Prior poetry titles by Walker, for those keeping track, include the full-length collections Six Months’ Rent (Windsor ON: Black Moss Press, 1991), Pregnant Poems (Black Moss Press, 1994), Into the Peculiar Dark (Toronto: The Mercury Press, 1998) and The Exit Show (Kingsville ON: Palimpsest Press, 2003), as well as the chapbook when the light of any action ceases (Georgetown KY: Finishing Line Press, 2016).

The structure of a suite of “100-word prose poems” are an intriguing constraint, sixty-four poems grouped together into four sections: “The Train to Water,” “Hometown Return,” “Kaleidoscope Box,” and “Demeter’s Country.” Set as a loose travelogue through and between Toronto and San Francisco, the book exists geographically, even culturally, between these two distinct poles, set not as a linear straight line between the two, but almost offering the two locations where the author had lived to where she currently lived as a kind of counterpoint. “Knowing it has something to do with me,” she writes, to open the second of a run of nine self-contained poems, each titled “Good Use of Beautiful Light (on Clinton Street),” “locked in the narrative. When he turns to me a sun shines. Dusk falls when he turns away. I disappear into a Pavlovian dark: a mouth of childhood swallowing me whole.” This is a book of memory, perhaps, across a suite of prose poems, offering points along the grid of her life. She writes experiences within each period, each place, with sidebar considerations in a cluster of “@Fifteen” poems that write of British Columbia’s Okanagan Valley, or working as a hostess “at Smitty’s Pancake House in Banff,” for example. As that particular poem writes:

Just then leaving the hostess gig at Smitty’s Pancake House in Banff after I’d been fired. On those mountain roads, the clarity of sunlight and clear mountain air. That breath where I just felt somehow a fleetly neurtral truth that I was still a child, and that I should not be out on the highway. With my thumb stuck out. that all my bravado was false. There isn’t as much narrative to that memory. A moment like the morning light on a truck and the crisp shadow it casts. The moment moved by me, and I kept hurtling forward.

The poems sit curiously between a narrative of unseen beginnings and overt conclusion, writing stealth and wisdom across quiet narratives of movement. The narrative impulse is somewhere in the realm of Lydia Davis fictions or the prose poems of Russell Edson [see my review of his posthumous selected here], presenting a prose lyric rich in layerings and imagery, straightforward paths and hints of what may exist beyond the boundaries of each page. “An unease of ocean, large waves,” begins “Red Rock Beach,” “and of undertow pulling out to sea. Close to our towel the young slender couple dances half-dressed to invisible music. The wide ocean opens its wide mouth and waits.”

 

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Eleni Cay

Eleni Cay is a Slovakian-born poet living in England and Norway. Her award-winning first collection was published by Parthian Books and her second poetry collection Love Algorithm is forthcoming by Eyewear Press. Her most recent poems appeared in Acumen, Atticus Review, The Cardiff Review and Poetry Ireland Review. Eleni is known for her filmpoems, dancepoems and multimedia poetry, which have been screened at international festivals and featured on Button Poetry. The Love Virus is Eleni’s debut novel.

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

I wrote my first book in Slovak when I was twelve. The title was ‘The Spring in My Heart’. It was a teenage novel about a girl called Katie. It was printed in fifty copies, my sister made a beautiful cover for it. My latest book was written in English, the story is an e-book, audiobook, paper-book, accompanying website. The main character is still called Katie, so I kept the connection to her, but the language, style and readership, have changed over the years.

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

Just like many other children, I enjoyed playing with sounds before I could speak words, and when I could speak some words, I enjoyed when they rhymed as they do in lullabies. So if we compare the distances, then the walk to poetry was the shortest, followed by fiction and then non-fiction.

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?

Loads of note-making, writing, re-writing, with occasional verses readily available in the mind factory.

4 - Where does a poem or work of prose 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?

Poems begin in small happenstances, novels begin in more predictable places. Both need equal attention to make it into a book.

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

I am a huge introvert and any conversation beyond four eyes can be stressful for me. I prefer when others do the reading and I play some piano in the background.

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?

It varies from book to book, from poem to poem. I guess the perennial question that animates my writing is the question of Love (with capital L). Love towards the living and non-living beings of water that surround us, that constitute us, and that we keep on ruining and repairing.

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?

The writers I admire use their platforms to spread beauty, knowledge and truth.

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

Essential for final proofread, and difficult for pieces that deliberately deviate from conventions.

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

Listen before you speak, read before you write, live before you judge.

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to fiction)? What do you see as the appeal?

It is their cross-over that I find most appealing (which is why I ended up writing a verse novel).

11 - 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 have no writing routine; I write when I can. My typical day begins with a small bowl of rice, a big cup of green tea and a smile.

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

Chopin or Bach.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

Minty smell of menthol candies at my grandfather’s flat (that’s the place I used to call home).

14 - 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?

All of the above, and also dance, architecture and technology.

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

Milan Rúfus for my poetry, Fyodor Dostoevsky for my novels, and Haruki Murakami for life.

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

The list is long! Top contestants for this year are to read Bashō in original, kiss by the Northern Lights and start my own apple orchard.

17 - 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?

I am a full-time researcher and a part-time writer, my dream is to swap the time proportions.

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

I tried dance, music, painting, but I guess the linguistic mode is closest to my natural abilities.

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

Cosmos by Carl Sagan. I am not a fan of films; I have seen only a handful in my life and are yet to see a great one.

20 - What are you currently working on?

A sequel to The Love Virus.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Jo Burns

Born in Northern Ireland in 1976, Jo Burns lives in Germany. Jo's poetry has been published widely in journals such as Oxford Poetry, Southword, Popshots, The Tangerine and Magma. Jo won the McClure Poetry Prize at the Irish Writers Festival in Los Gatos, CA and the Magma Judges Prize Poetry Competition 2018. Her debut pamphlet Circling for Gods was published by Eyewear Publishing. Her first collection White Horses will be published by Turas Press in November 2018.

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

I think that my first pamphlet Circling for Gods (Eyewear, 2018) helped me to finally have the confidence to drop the word “writer“ into conversations when introducing myself. Beforehand, without a published body of work, using that word felt slightly presumptuous as writing has always been an intensely private thing for me. It felt almost like a coming out. Many people in my daily life had no idea that I wrote poetry at all.

My forthcoming collection White Horses by Turas Press was written in a 3-4 year timeframe. For the past few years, in particular since 2016, the topics of patriarchy, intermingled with how we express faith (or not!) have been the themes that keep pulling me in.

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

As a child, I recited poetry at local poetry festivals. As a teenager I wrote bits and pieces of rhyming iambic tetrameter for the school magazine. Poetry has always been my preferred form. However for a long time I left it, to study medical sciences for almost 7 years and raise three children. On the cusp of middle age, poetry found me again. I am an avid fiction reader, but I can’t write it. I’ve tried but always end up condensing...

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?

It differs. Very, very, occasionally a poem writes itself. One example being when my son was having an MRI in a German Helios clinic. The name Helios, the circular form of the machine, the unknown ahead, with images of Phaethon, gave themselves to a poem which was scribbled down in about 10 minutes. However, the majority of the time my poems develop over years of notes, retitling and multiple drafts. If a poem is just not working, I do try to put it away and come at it again from a different angle. Quite often I end up with a completely different poem.

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?

Generally with an image that fixes itself in my brain and won’t let loose. Then I start exploring ideas around that image. Quite often my final lines in a poem were the initial images or ideas for the poem. I rarely write with a book in mind. It just so happens that I get stuck on certain themes, so that many of my poems speak to each other or revolve around the same idea. But a lot of sifting and reordering and culling takes place when I try to put all my poems together into one body of work.

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

I enjoy public readings and make every effort to do them. I get nervous, and am not always sure that my delivery does the poems justice. However, I enjoy meeting fellow poets, who tend to be (in my experience) 95% of most poetry reading audiences.

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 often ask myself if my poem somehow contributes something important to an existing body of thought. Is it worth a readers time or is it purely self involved? I have a hard time with those thoughts and second guess my poems before I send them anywhere. Possibly too much.

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 can’t speak for all writers, only myself. I try to catch moments of thought. What is happening in the world? What are the issues that are, in my eyes, important? When my kids are grown up and their kids ask “what were people concerned with in 2018“, I would hope that some of my poems shed some light on that. My poems are probably my own personal time capsules, waiting to be dug up.

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

For me, it’s absolutely essential. Having fiddled with some of my poems for years, it is hard to approach them with fresh eyes. I deeply value a kind but brutally honest editor. I don’t accept every suggestion but I do think very hard about them. I have been lucky to have worked with excellent editors over the years (Alexandra Payne, Eyewear and Liz McSkeane, Turas Press)

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

In general life, be kind, no matter what. In poetry, the same.

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 in the mornings when my three children are at school. Generally I will write for about an hour, sometimes two and spend some time editing older work. Once that’s done I worry about admin, submissions, bills, emails etc. Some days I take a complete break from it. There are days when sometimes there is just nothing you want to write.

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

The forest. I live in Germany between the Spessart and Odenwald forests. A long walk always brings me the word or idea I was looking for.

12 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

Hay. I grew up in the Northern Irish countryside.

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?

Due to my scientific background, science does tend to inadvertently creep into some of my poems. I find there are a lot of correlations between poetry and scientific thought. Precision, for example.

Paintings also feature often, although it’s been a while now since I wrote an Ekphrastic poem. Current affairs move me to explore certain topics, although at times I have to stop reading the news to be able to mentally slow down and concentrate on a poem.

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

Seamus Heaney grew up in the same area as I did (Albeit years before me). When I read his poems I feel like I can reach out and touch home. The same applies to a lot of Nick Laird’s work and many other Northern Irish poets. In terms of international voices, there are far too many to mention. It feels like poetry is currently so alive and diverse that I have a hard time keeping up with my peers and new work.

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

I would like to see a few of my poems as film poems.

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?

I think I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. However, I do always have this niggle that I could have been a great detective. Something to do with searching, I guess!

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

I can’t paint and I’m rubbish at saxophone. Words come slightly easier.

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

I recently watched the Wim Wenders Docu-film on Pope Francis. I loved it’s message of hope and humility. The last book that hooked me to the very end was Tim Marshall’s Prisoners of Geography.  

19 - What are you currently working on?

Im currently working on the proofs of my first full collection “White Horses“ by Turas Press. It will be launched in November 2018. Also, I am starting to collect poems for what will hopefully be my second collection. However that’s a few years away, so I’m taking it slowly. I’m not quite sure in what direction my newer poems are going. I expect current affairs will continue to shape them.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;