Adrian Blevins‘ Live from the Homesick Jamboree was released by Wesleyan this fall. The Brass Girl Brouhaha (Ausable Press, 2003) won the 2004 Kate Tufts Discovery Award. Blevins is also the recipient of a Rona Jaffe Writer’s Foundation Award, a Bright Hill Press Chapbook Award for The Man Who Went Out for Cigarettes, and the Lamar York Prize for Nonfiction. She teaches at Colby College in Waterville, Maine.
An excerpt from “The Waning”:
When you’re sixteen with pristine nipples it’s hard to imagine
you’ll go a little bit blind one morning years later trying to read a bottle…
View the Winter 2009-10 issue here.
After the jump, Adrian writes about the process of composing “The Waning” and “Country Song,” two poems that appear in the Winter 2009-10 issue of Ploughshares, guest-edited by Tony Hoagland.
Jane Anne Phillips says in her wonderful little essay “Outlaw Heart” that writers were as children “too intensely involved, […] precocious […] in what [they] remembered, in the emotional burdens [they] took on.” I hope it doesn’t sound melodramatic for me to say that this was, anyway, always my problem as a child and still is: I pay too much attention to all the wrong things. And my eyes are always wrecked with this seeing and the worry that comes with it. Meanwhile I really agree with what Dean Young says in a recent Poets & Writers about “prescription and intention [being] traps,” so maybe all I can say about these two poems is that they came from a worrying-seeing place that wrecks me and that I hope it happens again, since releasing such feeling-thoughts does produce, for a second, anyway, a certain kind of relief from having to pay too much attention to all the right things, whatever they are.