The Collagist Interview: Keith Montesano

Keith Montesano's poem "Stargazing" appeared in the December issue of The Collagist. He is the author of the poetry collection Ghost Lights (Dream Horse Press, 2010). His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Hayden’s Ferry Review, American Literary Review, Third Coast, Blackbird, Crab Orchard Review, Ninth Letter, and elsewhere. He currently lives with his wife in New York, where he is a PhD Candidate in English and Creative Writing at Binghamton University.

1. Can you talk about the inspiration for "Stargazing"? What was on your mind while you were writing this poem?

I’m never specifically looking for the headlines that turn into poems, but often there’s something that gets into my head and never leaves. When that happens, I usually have to write about it to forget it, and, at least right now in my life, it always happens in the way of a poem.

I first heard about this from a Yahoo headline, I think, and couldn’t believe the tragedy of it. I’ve never been stargazing before, but I imagine it’s pretty amazing, initially, if you know what to look for—to see these lights that are so far away, stars, patterns, distance. For that to happen to those girls, and for no one being able explain it, or be there to witness it, is something I couldn’t get out of my head.

2. I love the lyrical flow of this poem, how the images communicate with the speaker’s reflections. The opening seems powerful, these thoughts about stars that evolve into thoughts about “those who drown,” because of the lyrical beauty in it. However, the middle of the poem, engulfed in this back and forth between questions/reflections and the italicized survival suggestions, was the place where I was like, Wow I love this poem, further cemented when you ended with “Swim to safety.” Out of that section, where did those italicized sentences come from, and how did you decide to use them the way you did?

Thanks for your kind words. The italicized sentences are from some Internet searching, along with multiple books dealing with how to escape from certain situations (how to deliver a baby in a taxicab, for example), especially a vehicle once it’s submerged in water—knowledge about those bizarre situations you think you’ll never find yourself in. I had a list of phrases that I thought were the most interesting and worked the best linguistically for what I imagined in my head regarding that particular situation.

I was also fascinated with LifeHammers and ResQMe keychains—these are real tools you can buy, and I still wonder if I should actually buy one. There’s a small hammer so you can break the window with blunt force, and there’s a blade sharp enough to cut through seatbelts.

3. Normally, questions are something in poetry that need to be used with caution, as they can weaken the stance or the images in the piece. However, this poem, even with its abundance of questions, uses them to ground the meditative quality of the speaker, as he thinks about this tragedy. What are your thoughts on the use of questions in this poem?

I think asking those questions are, for me, a way of trying to make sense of a situation like this. You can’t, really—I realize this. But it’s almost a conscious effort from the speaker, and I’m trying to show that there’s a real person—in this case, me—behind the words, instead of a mask, or some other kind of persona.

4. Another Collagist poet, Nick Ripatrazone, did a review of your book Ghost Lights over at Quarterly Conversation. In it, he says that in your book, “[d]eath abounds: burnings, suicides, murders.” Though it seems of a different variety, death is something, obviously, that this poem is very contemplative about. How does this poem relate to the ones in your book, in regards to what readers can expect from your book?

I was at the dentist the other day, and she asked me what I did. I told her I’m getting a PhD at Binghamton University. She asked me what I was studying, I told her, and then said, after I saw her face look kind of saddened when I said “English,” that I’m also studying creative writing and have a book out. “What do you write about?” she asked. “I never know how to answer this. People say my poems are dark,” is how I responded.

There are many dark poems in Ghost Lights, and readers can expect much of the same. A lot of the poems were written from headlines and stem from tragedy. But there are also some love poems in there, even though they may seem unconventional.

5. What other writing projects are you currently working on?

“Stargazing” is from my new manuscript I’m working on, currently titled Sirens and Wildfire. It’s received a few nods from contests and open reading periods, but it’s still looking for publication.

Right now I’m thinking about a third manuscript, and though I have no idea where it’s going to come from, or when the seed will be planted, I’m not going to force it. I know the poems will be written when the time is right.

6. What great books have you read recently? Are there any upcoming releases you're excited about?

When I was getting my MFA, I kept seeing poems in journals by Bobby C. Rogers, and every single one was incredible. I finally found his email address and wrote him an email telling him just that. Five or six years later since then, his new book, Paper Anniversary, came out a few months ago, and it’s really amazing, and definitely one of my favorite books of the year.

I’m not surprised that Elyse Fenton’s Clamor has gained such recognition so quickly. It’s a harrowing, visceral, and beautiful book.

Gary L. McDowell’s American Amen is another one folks should put on their to-get-next list also. It’s inspiring on many levels.

Tim Winton’s novel Breath blew me away, and it’s one of my favorite novels I’ve read in a while. Reading so much poetry lately reminds me that I need to delve into more novels, and I’m hoping to go through Winton’s back catalogue pretty fast. And soon.

As far as what I’m looking forward to, Blake Butler’s There Is No Year is definitely on the list.

And though it’s a film (and here’s where I have to admit that I sometimes watch more films than I read books), Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life is easily my most anticipated piece of art in 2011. To be honest, it’s my most anticipated anything in 2011.