KARAN

Brionne, thank you for these bold and electrifying poems that reimagine divinity, desire, and power with such fearless grace. In “My Mother is the Rock, the Mountain, Sisyphus,” (what a magnificent title!) you write “I am only a person / like any other / cursed to witness / my mother’s suffering” – these lines capture such profound weight in their simplicity. Let’s begin with the process question. How do you start writing a poem? Does it begin with an image, a line, or an idea? Do you have a writing routine? And most importantly, what drives you to write poetry?

BRIONNE

Thanks for saying such kind things about my poems, Karan. 

Starting has always been my least favorite part of writing poems. At this point I practically refuse to sit down to a blank page. So I wouldn’t say I have a regular writing routine. Instead I try to keep space in my day for thinking, and I do my best thinking when listening to music. Right now I have a playlist of gospel music that for me orbits the themes of the book I’m working on. I listen to it almost everyday. Slowly my questions start to form or a line or two appears, sometimes in the moment of listening, but often at random parts of the day. I store these lines in my notes app until I feel compelled to write. So that by the time I sit down to the page I’ve got at least a few seedlings to work with.

KARAN

Your sequence “The Wickedness of God” creates this incredible exploration of divine cruelty and human suffering. You move between different registers and voices, from biblical to contemporary vernacular. How do you think about voice in your poetry? What possibilities open up when you shift between these different modes of speaking?

BRIONNE

One of my desires, in moving between these different voices in a single sequence, which asks big questions of the divine human relationship, is to resist the hierarchy of “register,” which suggests that some ways of speaking are for our lofty or complex thoughts and others are for more base or simpler thoughts. In making use of the full range of my voices I hope to reflect the range of influences on my work and thinking. And some of the most influential thinkers in my life have been speakers of Black vernacular English so that’s a voice that feels particularly important to me.

KARAN

The figure of Jesus appears throughout these poems in startlingly intimate ways. For instance, in “Lunatic Liar Lord:” “at Jesus’ feet like a cat only pretending / at humbleness.” Tell us about your relationship with religious imagery (or faith if you want to go deeper!) and how you think about reclaiming or reimagining these sacred figures.

BRIONNE

Well, Jesus is love right? His presence in the poems is sort of my way of asking how or where love or the idea of a love-god fits into all the cruelty in the world around us. 

I like the idea of taking Christian imagery and placing it in contexts that may be uncomfortable for some and exciting to others. My favorite instance of this being when, in one of the “Wickedness of God” poems, Jesus is pictured kneeling at David’s feet waiting to be fed. I love the idea of a god that is willing to give up their power in the interest of a shared pleasure, and isn’t that what Jesus was ultimately doing when he agreed to sacrifice himself for humanity. 

KARAN

Your work explores power dynamics through both spiritual and erotic lenses. In “Brat Aspirational,” you write “even when I top I bottom.” How do you see the relationship between sexuality and spirituality in your poetry? What draws you to explore these intersections?

BRIONNE

I see my poems as an attempt to collapse the distance between the spiritual and sexual. I think when you’re doing it right both sex and spirituality are deeply erotic, because they’re both about connection. I enjoy swimming in and highlighting that shared eroticism probably because I’m “not supposed to” which makes it kinky and fun. 

Plus the idea of a god that is devoted to me, even in my imperfections, is very hot, and I know I’m not the first person to think so. John Donne wrote some very sexy poems about god. The only difference between me and him is I can’t help thinking god might want to be topped from time to time.

KARAN

I’m struck by how you write about motherhood and divine parenthood in parallel. The mother in your opening poem carries her burden like Sisyphus, while “SkyDaddy” is “the absentiest father.” How do you think about these earthly and divine parent-child relationships in your work? Or more simply, and broadly, why the hell are parents such rich material for art?

BRIONNE

What a question! I hate to say it but parents are kind of our original heartbreakers. And what else drives a person to the page more intensely than heartbreak. 

KARAN

This is a staple question for us and I’m always surprised by the range in everyone’s responses: There’s a school of poetry that believes a poem or a poet can categorize their work in one of these four ways: poetry of the body, poetry of the mind, poetry of the heart, poetry of the soul. Where would you place your work within this framework, if at all? And do you see your poetry moving in a different direction?

BRIONNE

Well as I said to your question about sexuality and spirituality, if anything, I hope my poetry is working to collapse this fragmentation of ourselves. I think the separation of mind from body from heart from soul leads us to very shallow understandings of the self. I hope my poetry points to the connections between these different parts of ourselves—the places and moments when our heart/mind/body/soul move in alignment with each other and the pain we feel when these parts of ourselves feel in opposition to one another.

KARAN

Your poetry moves between tenderness and rage with such dexterity. In one poem, Jesus is drinking “till his thirst / governs your body,” while in another, God is closing his eyes to brutality. Could you talk about navigating these emotional extremes in your work? Why do they work so beautifully together?

BRIONNE

Well you’re sort of watching me work through my own feelings and questions about God on the page here. And that tenderness and rage are both very real for me. I can remember how important it was for me as a child to believe there was a God who was there for me, and how that belief sheltered me spiritually if not physically from life’s cruelty. I can look back at that child and feel both gratitude to God for being there as an emotional comfort even as I feel intense rage for all the harm that he didn’t keep from me.

KARAN

Breezy, what is some of the best advice you’ve received so far as a writer? 

BRIONNE

In grad school a friend said of a classmate we admired and who has gone on to have a great career, “she’s not afraid to write a bad poem.” This absence of fear meant this poet was willing to take risks and try things in her poems that the rest of us were too afraid to do, because we had to write good poems or else. It took a while for that to sink in but eventually I learned to stop being so precious with my drafts and dare to experiment and fail in my efforts to create something better.

KARAN

We always ask our poets for a poetry prompt at the end. Would you provide a prompt for our readers, to help them kickstart a poem?

BRIONNE

Write a poem where (a) god asks forgiveness.

KARAN

We’d also love for you to recommend a piece of art (anything other than a poem) — perhaps a song, a film, or a visual artwork — that you find particularly inspiring or that you think everyone should experience.

BRIONNE

Love this question, and it’s so hard to choose just one, but Vernon Price singing “I Am Thine Oh Lord” is one of those places where the eroticism of the spiritual can be deeply felt, and I think everyone should experience that. 

KARAN

Finally, because we believe in studying the master's masters, we would love to know which poets have influenced you most throughout your journey as a writer.

BRIONNE

I think a lot about the vulnerability of poets like Toi Dericotte and Sharon Olds, and how generous and courageous they are to offer us so much of their tender inner worlds. Stag’s Leap and The Undertaker’s Daughter have both in different ways ushered me back into feeling in moments when I’ve gone numb. For that I am immensely grateful.