AN INTERVIEW WITH POET HEATH BROUGHER
MANNEQUIN HAUS: Can you describe the types of poems you like to read?
HEATH: Poetry that takes risks. I like poetry that stands on it's own and pushes the boundaries of what poetry is capable of doing or becoming. I like poems that surprise me or make me stop and think about something for a while. My favorite kind of poetry, if there is a term for it, would be "philosophical poetry." Right now my favorite poets to read are Heller Levinson, Felino Soriano, Alan Britt, Matt Duggan, Daniel Y. Harris, Mark Young, Geoffrey Gatza, as well as a plethora of others whom I don't have the space to list. Basically, my favorite "style" to read isany type of poetry that isn't afraid to push the envelope. If a poet isn't taking risks then I don't really understand what motivates them to write in the first place because I think it is one of the main reasons I write. I can't stand what, unfortunately, makes up the majority of contemporary poetry, which is basically the same, boring poem after the same, boring poem. These terriblepoems always color inside the lines, which is their little safety zone. GOD FORBID they should ever try writing something that is True to themselves and not written by some preconceived construct of what poetry is "supposed to be." I'll post the quote from one of my forthcoming books The Ethnosphere's Duality:
“On the question of being understandable.— One does not only wish to be understood when one writes; one wishes just as surely not to be understood. It is not by any means necessarily an objection to a book when anybody finds it impossible to understand: perhaps that was part of the author’s intention—he did not want to be understood by just “anybody.” Every more noble spirit and taste selects its audience when it wishes to communicate itself; and choosing them, it at the same time erects barriers against “the others.” All the more subtle laws of any style have their origin at this point: they at the same time keep away, create a distance, forbid “entrance,” understanding, as said above—while they open the ears of those whose ears are related to ours.” --Friedrich Nietzsche
So, to sum up this question, I like reading work that is not really for mass consumption (mostly because the masses are not ready for it yet) that is related to my ear.
MH: Who are your favorite poets?
H: I guess I kind of answered this in the previous question, but I'll go into a bit more depth in case any of the readers don't know the work of the geniuses I mentioned. I'll only comment on a few. Heller Levinson, who I consider to be the greatest poet of his generation, is the inventor of Hinge Theory. His writing is beyond brilliant. If any of the readers are not familiar with Hinge Theory then they really need to get in the loop because this is the stuff their grandchildren will be reading in high school and college. It will be printed in English literary textbooks right next to the likes of e.e. cummings and Walt Whitman. The same goes for Felino A. Soriano, who I consider to be the greatest poet of my generation, and who seems to have instant access to a unique brilliance. His poems will make you think and feel things you thought you pretty much had nailed down as far as perception goes and present them to you in an entirelynew light. Then there's Alan Britt, who, along with Duane Locke, is one of the inventors of Immanentism. His poems may come off looking like more "normal" poems but the content is genius in the way he conjures images. He is the poet who I feel most inspired by while reading and will cause me to put down his book and start writing myself at times. I also love reading Mark Young's books. I consider him to be the modern day equivalent of William Carlos Williams. His collections are vast and what I love about them the most is that you never know what's coming on the next page. His books can have 3,4,5 poems written in a "normal" format and then the next page will be some wild, Asemic writing that completely blindsides you. It's great to read his writings in journals but you haven't Truly experienced Mark Young's brilliance until you've read one of his books.
MH: Do you write any fiction or do you mainly stick to poetry?
H: From my teens to my late 20s I wrote a decent amount of fiction but, for the most part, that began to fade in my late 20s/early 30s and philosophy and poetry became the vast majority of what I wrote. I remember writing what's known as "hybrid writing" as far back as my teens, before I even knew such a style existed. I even wrote an entire book of it titled Easter Eve,which I haven't even begun typing up yet because I've realized it's not as unique as I thought it was. I thought I was being "cutting edge." Ha! In 2014, when I did finally enter the lit world, there were a bunch of styles, and even exact words, that I thought I had made up myself, only to find out that someone had beat me to the punch. I was writing flash fiction before I knew there was such a genre, although my "flash fiction" writings were basically just bizarre experiments with a theme loosely attached. I have only ever copied up two of my short stories and a couple of my flash fiction writings, none of which are fully edited. I have an entire book of experimentally written philosophy which is one of the three books I actually wrote on the computer instead of on paper. I haven't gone back and edited it because I can already tell it's too "bizarre" for any press to publish.
MH: I notice in your work that you do not hold back, the language is very sharpened, and the movement through the poem can be very sudden, like someone on the highway driving in an old beat up car, taking risks, and slamming on the breaks, taking us around jostling turns.
I liked the poem "Earthen Savagery"where the gang of kids is in philly or somewhere driving on mushrooms, the descriptions leave no room, I love the tight, almost bent out of shape language, and sudden changes you incorporate into your poems. Would you share a poem with us here:
H: Ha! That part of the poem is actually True. During my late-teens/early-20s extrovert days I was pretty much a total drunken lunatic. Oh, the stories I could tell you! Ha! As the poem states we were "bourbondrunk and balltripping." I remember we were driving on the bridge over the Susquehanna River when the driver of the car took a sip off the bottle of bourbon we were passing around and asked, "Where's the lid?" Another friend replied "The lid to what?" Then my other friend chimed in, "The lid to the liquor" causing the driver of the car to suddenly blurt out "The lid to the liquor's lost?!?!" in a really fast and concerned tone. Almost as if it were one word long. This caused all four of us to break out in a giant gale of laughter which lasted for a LONG time. It's one of those funny moments that can spontaneously happen when you're "bourbondrunk and balltripping" on mushrooms like we were. OK. Enough about my sordid past. Now I'll share a poem. I've decided to share a poem which I can finally end the way I wanted it to end but knew it would look like an error. It has to do with the last word of the poem. It is INTENIONALLY singular. I just like the ring of it better when it's not grammatically correct. This is the first time the real version has ever been published. I wrote this poem my freshman year of college and I've personally always liked it because it's really indicative of a one-time thing. I threw in a couple rhymes as well, which is something I NEVER normally do with poetry.
A Plushen World
At the helm of an aimless vessel,
twist contort and rise; trading
honey for kisses as we are hungry for kisses
laid to the lips— iffy, steering wild;
the no-stale thick liquid ooze
until we petrify
halfway up and down the atmosphere;
silverless dots nonexistence, the suiciders
have slat so may wrists, taken so may risks,
so we bleed like air bleeds when the air is bleeding;
at the helm of an aimless vessel,
twist contortion rise up to a yellow rose;
coming up contortion twists, silverless nonexistence nips
at the frozen blood halfway up the sky
we petrify and love these suicide.
MANNEQUIN HAUS: Can you describe the types of poems you like to read?
HEATH: Poetry that takes risks. I like poetry that stands on it's own and pushes the boundaries of what poetry is capable of doing or becoming. I like poems that surprise me or make me stop and think about something for a while. My favorite kind of poetry, if there is a term for it, would be "philosophical poetry." Right now my favorite poets to read are Heller Levinson, Felino Soriano, Alan Britt, Matt Duggan, Daniel Y. Harris, Mark Young, Geoffrey Gatza, as well as a plethora of others whom I don't have the space to list. Basically, my favorite "style" to read isany type of poetry that isn't afraid to push the envelope. If a poet isn't taking risks then I don't really understand what motivates them to write in the first place because I think it is one of the main reasons I write. I can't stand what, unfortunately, makes up the majority of contemporary poetry, which is basically the same, boring poem after the same, boring poem. These terriblepoems always color inside the lines, which is their little safety zone. GOD FORBID they should ever try writing something that is True to themselves and not written by some preconceived construct of what poetry is "supposed to be." I'll post the quote from one of my forthcoming books The Ethnosphere's Duality:
“On the question of being understandable.— One does not only wish to be understood when one writes; one wishes just as surely not to be understood. It is not by any means necessarily an objection to a book when anybody finds it impossible to understand: perhaps that was part of the author’s intention—he did not want to be understood by just “anybody.” Every more noble spirit and taste selects its audience when it wishes to communicate itself; and choosing them, it at the same time erects barriers against “the others.” All the more subtle laws of any style have their origin at this point: they at the same time keep away, create a distance, forbid “entrance,” understanding, as said above—while they open the ears of those whose ears are related to ours.” --Friedrich Nietzsche
So, to sum up this question, I like reading work that is not really for mass consumption (mostly because the masses are not ready for it yet) that is related to my ear.
MH: Who are your favorite poets?
H: I guess I kind of answered this in the previous question, but I'll go into a bit more depth in case any of the readers don't know the work of the geniuses I mentioned. I'll only comment on a few. Heller Levinson, who I consider to be the greatest poet of his generation, is the inventor of Hinge Theory. His writing is beyond brilliant. If any of the readers are not familiar with Hinge Theory then they really need to get in the loop because this is the stuff their grandchildren will be reading in high school and college. It will be printed in English literary textbooks right next to the likes of e.e. cummings and Walt Whitman. The same goes for Felino A. Soriano, who I consider to be the greatest poet of my generation, and who seems to have instant access to a unique brilliance. His poems will make you think and feel things you thought you pretty much had nailed down as far as perception goes and present them to you in an entirelynew light. Then there's Alan Britt, who, along with Duane Locke, is one of the inventors of Immanentism. His poems may come off looking like more "normal" poems but the content is genius in the way he conjures images. He is the poet who I feel most inspired by while reading and will cause me to put down his book and start writing myself at times. I also love reading Mark Young's books. I consider him to be the modern day equivalent of William Carlos Williams. His collections are vast and what I love about them the most is that you never know what's coming on the next page. His books can have 3,4,5 poems written in a "normal" format and then the next page will be some wild, Asemic writing that completely blindsides you. It's great to read his writings in journals but you haven't Truly experienced Mark Young's brilliance until you've read one of his books.
MH: Do you write any fiction or do you mainly stick to poetry?
H: From my teens to my late 20s I wrote a decent amount of fiction but, for the most part, that began to fade in my late 20s/early 30s and philosophy and poetry became the vast majority of what I wrote. I remember writing what's known as "hybrid writing" as far back as my teens, before I even knew such a style existed. I even wrote an entire book of it titled Easter Eve,which I haven't even begun typing up yet because I've realized it's not as unique as I thought it was. I thought I was being "cutting edge." Ha! In 2014, when I did finally enter the lit world, there were a bunch of styles, and even exact words, that I thought I had made up myself, only to find out that someone had beat me to the punch. I was writing flash fiction before I knew there was such a genre, although my "flash fiction" writings were basically just bizarre experiments with a theme loosely attached. I have only ever copied up two of my short stories and a couple of my flash fiction writings, none of which are fully edited. I have an entire book of experimentally written philosophy which is one of the three books I actually wrote on the computer instead of on paper. I haven't gone back and edited it because I can already tell it's too "bizarre" for any press to publish.
MH: I notice in your work that you do not hold back, the language is very sharpened, and the movement through the poem can be very sudden, like someone on the highway driving in an old beat up car, taking risks, and slamming on the breaks, taking us around jostling turns.
I liked the poem "Earthen Savagery"where the gang of kids is in philly or somewhere driving on mushrooms, the descriptions leave no room, I love the tight, almost bent out of shape language, and sudden changes you incorporate into your poems. Would you share a poem with us here:
H: Ha! That part of the poem is actually True. During my late-teens/early-20s extrovert days I was pretty much a total drunken lunatic. Oh, the stories I could tell you! Ha! As the poem states we were "bourbondrunk and balltripping." I remember we were driving on the bridge over the Susquehanna River when the driver of the car took a sip off the bottle of bourbon we were passing around and asked, "Where's the lid?" Another friend replied "The lid to what?" Then my other friend chimed in, "The lid to the liquor" causing the driver of the car to suddenly blurt out "The lid to the liquor's lost?!?!" in a really fast and concerned tone. Almost as if it were one word long. This caused all four of us to break out in a giant gale of laughter which lasted for a LONG time. It's one of those funny moments that can spontaneously happen when you're "bourbondrunk and balltripping" on mushrooms like we were. OK. Enough about my sordid past. Now I'll share a poem. I've decided to share a poem which I can finally end the way I wanted it to end but knew it would look like an error. It has to do with the last word of the poem. It is INTENIONALLY singular. I just like the ring of it better when it's not grammatically correct. This is the first time the real version has ever been published. I wrote this poem my freshman year of college and I've personally always liked it because it's really indicative of a one-time thing. I threw in a couple rhymes as well, which is something I NEVER normally do with poetry.
A Plushen World
At the helm of an aimless vessel,
twist contort and rise; trading
honey for kisses as we are hungry for kisses
laid to the lips— iffy, steering wild;
the no-stale thick liquid ooze
until we petrify
halfway up and down the atmosphere;
silverless dots nonexistence, the suiciders
have slat so may wrists, taken so may risks,
so we bleed like air bleeds when the air is bleeding;
at the helm of an aimless vessel,
twist contortion rise up to a yellow rose;
coming up contortion twists, silverless nonexistence nips
at the frozen blood halfway up the sky
we petrify and love these suicide.
