What do you find most difficult about writing poetry?
Translating my brainchildren into wordchildren proves quite difficult. How can I possibly convey the lust I feel for my lover’s armpit that drives me to stick my nose into his sweet musk? I must first build a replica human suit of myself for you to slip into (complete with temperature controls so maybe you can feel more comfortable in my skin than I do). But even then, I can’t recreate his pheromones or create synapses from my nose to your brain. My mother once told me about this man she knew who wore a special cologne. Every time he walked by her head involuntarily turned his direction. Something about the pheremones in the spray connected to her on a corporeal level. I suppose that’s the most difficult thing about writing poetry—translating my intangible thoughts into something physical that has the power to sway a stranger’s body.