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Artist Interview

Poet Amy Dryansky

April 10, 2017

                                    
                                   Photo Credit: Trish Crapo

Amy Dryansky is not only a poet, teacher, mother, and blogger, she is also the newly crowned Poet Laureate of Northampton! (Or, as she likes to call it, "PoLo of Noho.") Award-winning author of two books, How I Got Lost So Close to Home and Grass Whistle, and supporter of so many of the organizations and causes that Ode holds near and dear (Center for New Americans, Northampton Arts Council, and The Literacy Project, to name a few), Amy Dryansky is the perfect poet to be helping us celebrate National Poetry Month. Please join us for a night of poetry on Friday, April 14th, 6-8PM at Ode. Amy will be reading alongside poets Debora Kuan and Dora Malech.

What poem have you read recently that we should be reading?
I’ve been rereading Laura Kasischke’s book, Space, in Chains, which won the National Book Critics Circle Award. I feel the book is an amazing inquiry into our state of human frailty, and as Linda Gregg says, “all things huge and their requiring.” Or maybe it’s the “we are here,” of Horton Hears a Who, our tiny voices calling out in the enormity of existence, hoping someone hears us. In any case, the last poem I read from the book is, “At the Public Pool.” 

At the public pool
by Laura Kasischke

I could carry my father in my arms.
I was a small child.
He was a large, strong man.
Muscled, tan.
But he felt like a bearable memory in my arms. 

The lion covers his tracks with his tail.
He goes to the terrible Euphrates and drinks.
He is snared there by a little shrub.
The hunter hears his cries, and hurries for his gun. 

What of these public waters?

Come in, I said to my little son.
He stood at the edge, looking down.
It was a slowly rolling mirror.
A strange blue porcelain sheet.
A naked lake, transparent as a need. 

The public life.
The Radio Songs.
Political Art.
The Hall of Stuff We Bought at the Mall. The plugged-up fountain at the center
of the Museum of Crap That Couldn’t Last
has flooded it all. 

Come in, I said again. In here you can carry your mother in your arms. 

I still see his beautiful belly forever.
The blond curls on his perfect head.
The whole Botticelli of it crawling on the surface
of the water. And
his sad, considerate expression.
No, he said. 

--from Space, In Chains
Copyright © 2011 Laura Kasischke

If you could make one word a piece of gum, what would you be chewing today?
INTERSTICES. It’s a word I never get tired of having in my mouth. And I always have to think before I say it, even to myself. Also, I have a thing about negative space--what’s not there, the pause—so it’s also a great idea word.

Favorite line of poetry about Spring:
“Keep still, just a moment, leaves.”
--Robert Penn Warren, Deciduous Spring

Give us a writing prompt (please).
Write about the first anything: marriage/divorce/flight/accident/molecule/mountain/insect/whale, etc.