'Vela.' wonders about media ecologies/mediumicity, and wanders among vegetal life, fruits and animals, asking questions about entities not-just-human, and about proximity — how close is close? What vela lie beneath, or above, the variegated vellum that we are? I like to think my poems are worried about archives, too, yet capaciously so: what does the body archive? What does it send, and what does it re-seethe? What should the poem being doing about the Anthropocene, beyond re-marking it, and how can the poem engage meaningfully with other-than human intelligences and temporalities? There are these things, and then the poet shows up every now and again — I guess as a sort of rattled shy kid who nonetheless still loves the world, and never wants to stop glossing it — or trying.
"I am convinced creative communities of like maker-minds are often very good at equipping themselves with new means of accessing complex social, human problems (and, increasingly, their environmental correlatives). As a community member, I see my role as an amplificatory one; while I do produce work myself, a core component of my practice involves reading/viewing/sharing in the transmission of the works of others."
these poems sucked my greymatter through the straws of the flawed but extant connectivities of global capital & animal life and spit it back into my skullbowl renewed and astounded.