Salt water might blind you
with certain promises but it won’t
get you drunk with real thrill
or show you anyone’s insides.
You think a tidal wave is real
power? It probably took
a million small insects to dye
an emperor’s robe and it
isn’t how we treat our equals
but those smaller that counts.
Caroline Crew’s poem for Dottie Lasky, and then I exploded. (via Nashville Review)
my town’s mascot is a single
tear / this is a perfect expression /
because it is limited / and not pictured
related to a body / crying is a baroque
embarrassment on an actual face /
roiling troubles the porcelain
Caroline Crew, “Occasional Poem,” published in Drunken Boat
There is a vast canon of women writers that is mine, but I have to go out and find those authors. They are writers you don’t read in school. For everyone one Elizabeth Barrett Browning, there were hundreds and hundreds of Victorian women writers, many of whom were outselling Dickens. And I don’t know them! Twenty years from now, people will be reading some of my peers: women poets, poets of color, queer poets. I think about what I have to do to make sure these future readers get to access to all these amazing writers. And I think about how loud we all need to keep shouting.
Caroline Crew, interviewed by Molly McArdle for Brooklyn Mag