1. June is often considered a seasonally transitional high point. How do you plan on making and/or recognizing the month of June as a space of transition for yourself and your art?
In June I’ll be covering maybe 5,000 miles to read poems from a book I began work on in 2007. This feels like the final purge of everything that went into that book. I’m hoping when I get back home the thread to another book will be there.
2. How much wood can you chuck?
Man, as a kid I chucked a shitload of wood. We cut several cords of it for every winter. In college, I learned how to use a log spike to roll wood when I was working for a guy who had a portable saw mill. I don’t know how much wood I could chuck now. My spine is pretty messed up. Probably a moderate amount.
3. When you think of “summer,” what inspiration arrives?
Summer = light = exteriority = ego in a less tyrannical place. I just spent my first winter in Buffalo. The meaning of summer has intensified.
4. The poet faces the god and has one thing to say. What is it?
Good morning, you sexy ghost.
5. If you have been to the summit of Mt. Rainier, what words did you speak on it? And if you have not but imagine being there, what words would you speak on it?
I think or at least I hope that in places like that I listen.
6. There is the tactile window. There is the digital screen window. What is the next window?
The next window is no window or it is a three dimensional crystalline gelatin–a viscous, refracting depth. Does this mean we’ll be post-media? I don’t know.
7. What is your favorite bird? What is your favorite bird to eat?
I’m not a bird person. Maybe it is all the bad, lazy poems about birds. I would like to bite the heads off of every starling in every poem and then sit down to chicken liver pate with a can of beer.
8. Tell us about your favorite road trip in America.
My friend Tom and I were driving through Alabama and took a wrong turn. Eventually the road sort of just turned into dirt and then uneven dirt. When we saw a cow in the middle of the road, we new we’d finally found something.
9. How will we know it is you the night of Breadline?
Probably the gross beard. I’ll have been on the road for twenty-four days.
10. Give us a link to something on the Internet we should explore, investigate, or abandon.
Joost wrote about my reading at Pete’s Candy Store for the Dutch blog Oote Oote. It gives me a lot of pleasure to write that sentence.
Joe Hall was born in the woods and is devoted to Cheryl. His poems have appeared in Gulf Coast, Lo-Ball, HTMLGiant and elsewhere. Black Ocean Press published his first book, Pigafetta Is My Wife, in 2010. He is currently in the middle of a coast to coast book tour for his second book, TheDevotional Poems. Follow it at http://joehalljoehall.wordpress.com/.