Kelly, Edmontonian poet, reads Self Portrait in Fur on my sunny, squirrel and bird frequented patio and we talk a jam packed 40 minutes about environmental poetry, our distaste for certain poetic modes like slam; I mention my loathing for the contrived nature of Mary Oliver and the absurdity of prizes based on relatively bad dead poets. We also talk "career" trajectory in poetry land, chapbooks and the necessity of honouring those poets who have stuck to creating over an extensive period of time. There are some chair creaks and I say YOU KNOW too much but hey this is all a learning process and it's VERY VERY real! Even my cackling ;) Enjoy releasing your conditioning!!
