Just like how my material’s pretty often rooted in the subject matter of memory, I think my method is very much rooted in the same thing.
When I write, it usually comes as the product of something eating away at me long enough. I don’t often have the words for it right away, but eventually it tugs at me long enough for me to kind of be familiar with its general shape, and I can start to try and put words to it. But it’s always something that’s happened – some vague edge of a memory that fits itself into what comprises my poem.
There were a lot of abstract poets I worked with back when I did workshops – a much different breed than the kind you’ll ever find on Instagram, I think. I admired that kind of work – especially because it was so much different than the kind I could produce. It didn’t seem to be rooted in anything but pure thought – these shapes floating in space that may have had tethers to words back on earth, but you’d have to look quite hard to make them out.