In this episode we discussed three very different poems by Oregon poet Lorna Rose, all three resulting in juicy conversation and resulting in three tie-breakers (none of them involving the same voting configurations amongst our team!). This was a big first for us. The episode was kicked off by a larger discussion (prompted by the first poem) around aspects of cultural appropriation and touched on facets of trauma and language. This wide-ranging discussion and the split in our voting pointed to the power and ambiguity of various elements in these poems.  In the end, a tie-breaking editor helped deliver two of these poems into PBQ’s pages! Have a listen! 

Note: This episode was recorded in December 2021, so there will be a bit of time travel involved. 

This episode is brought to you by our sponsor Wilbur Records, who kindly introduced us to the artist is A.M.Mills whose song “Spaghetti with Loretta” now opens our show.  

At the table: Kathleen Volk Miller, Marion Wrenn, Jason Schneiderman, Alex Tunney 

Absentee voter for the tie-breakers: Samanatha Neugebauer 

Links to things we discuss you might like to check out: 

"Declaration" by Tracy K. Smith, an erasure poem of the Declaration of Independence 

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/147468/declaration-5b5a286052461 

"Native Son" by Richard Wright 

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1992/07/20/the-hammer-and-the-nail 

"Appropriate: A Provocation" by Paisley Rekdal 

https://wwnorton.com/books/9781324003588 

"How-To" by Anders Carlson Wee and retraction by The Nation 

https://www.thenation.com/article/archive/how-to/ 

"Inside Kate Winlset's Mare of Easttown" Pennsylvania Accent, Vanity Fair 

https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2021/04/kate-winslet-mare-of-easttown-accent 

Lorna is a Pacific Northwest writer and speaker. Her narrative nonfiction and poetry have been recognized by Pacific Northwest Writers Association and the Oregon Poetry Association, and have appeared or are forthcoming in Scary Mommy, Jellyfish Review, Painted Bride Quarterly, Writers Resist, and elsewhere. She's also a speaker and workshop leader. When not wrangling her two small children, she fantasizes about being interviewed on NPR’s Fresh Air.  

Author website 

Leaving Libya 

I flood my lungs  

with the wet stench of fish and bodies and fuel.  

Dinghy motor whines against the night.  

Salt air grinds my skin ‘til it’s threadbare and  

there’s no sitting since leaving Sabratha.  

Body clenches tight to its bones  

and shrill muscles shriek and weep and lock up.  

Damp t-shirt clings to goosebumped flesh under a  

tattered orange life jacket. But what life?  

Next to me a shaking woman holds her boney baby  

and cries. She has shit herself.  

Behind me a man mumbles and mumbles for water.  

His eyes roll hollow,  

mouth slacks open.  

From his breath  

I smell the thick stink of rot,  

the gray smell of  

forgotten humanity.  

Lights of the Italian coastline appear and  

my heart races,  

vision blurs. 

From somewhere behind there’s a jolt.  

Yelling.  

Floor tilts.  

And the lights of Lampedusa go black. 

Surviving the Rush 

No music plays in  

the general store in Circle, Alaska,  

which is full of mukluks and  

Wonder Bread.  

Villagers fish the Yukon,  

memorize river rise,  

bet on  

breakup.  

Long ago miners arrived from Outside 

to sift, chip  

rip fortunes 

from earth.  

Stilts were drilled into permafrost and  

structures were imposed and  

all bustle and  

rage.  

Then claims fell dry and  

no patience and Circle started to 

wither. 

The locals  

picked up pieces of buildings, tried to  

heal the  

pock-marked ground.  

Today a tourist’s crisp dollar might  

mean something,  

except the locals would have to tolerate  

the perfumey tourist.  

Villagers fish the Yukon,  

memorize river rise,  

bet on breakup. The soil smells of  

fool’s gold and blood.