Matthew Poindexter's poems have appeared in Best New Poets 2009 (University of Virginia Press), Another and Another (Bull City Press), and The Awl. He lives in Carrboro, North Carolina.
His poems "SLOW / FUNERAL" appear in Issue Thirty-Nine of The Collagist.
Here, Matthew Poindexter talks with interviewer Amber L. Cook about tension, rhyme, and law school.
1. What inspired you to write “Slow / Funeral”? Does the poem follow a true account of a funeral procession that you experienced?
Where I grew up in rural North Carolina, it’s common to put signs reading “SLOW / FUNERAL” in front yard of the grieving family and at the cemetery. You’re supposed to drive slowly to show respect. Those signs have stuck with me. As far as the action of the poem, I wouldn’t call it true to life, but whenever an emergency vehicle or funeral procession necessitates driving into someone’s land, I’m uncomfortable. I feel guilty if I’m trampling over a space someone obviously put a great deal of time and effort into making look nice, even if my being there isn’t by choice.
2. Couplets for me often work as units/containers that hold an image or idea together but also create really jarring enjambment. How do you see couplets functioning? What made this form a good fit for the subject of this poem?
The risk with repeating the same stanza length over and over is the poem falling into a lull and not giving the reader something dynamic. This is especially true of couplets. If I commit to couplets, I almost need that jarring enjambment to make sure I don’t get too patterned. For me, the form functions best as a way to keep the language tight and short so that I don’t try to weave a clause on too long. On top of that, they fit with this poem because their form mirrors two-lane blacktop so well.
3. I really love lines that are conscious to sound, like when you write, “Kentucky-31 bag slumped on the stump of what/ must be/ an oak...” Do you often play with sonics in your poems?
I believe the sonic qualities of a poem are just as important as any other technical aspect. I like rhyme, but I try to disperse it over the entirety of the poem. Putting all of that sonic play in end-line rhyme makes my writing feel uneven. I try to punch up the sonics toward the end of the revision process, and I know a poem is getting close to being done when it starts to sound polished.
4. How did you achieve conflict between the speaker/driver in the poem and the lawn owner?
Feeling obligated to intrude and being intruded upon is what I wanted to propel this poem. The driver has his right to the road in front of him intruded upon, and he loses his ability to feel anonymous and private in his car. The owner has his protected space violated, as well as the privilege to work as he pleases. Even the people going to the funeral are in the middle of a private and personal event that is being publicly acknowledged. The driver, the lawn owner, and the funeral party simultaneously intrude on one another, even though they would prefer not to, and that creates the tension.
5. What’s something that you’re reading right now that is worth sharing?
Right now I’m less than a month away from taking the bar exam, so it’s difficult to describe most of my reading as “worth sharing.” However, the one new book I have made time for is Delaney Nolan’s Shotgun Style: A Diagram of the Territory of New Orleans. Her stories manage to feel simultaneously alien and domestic, and logical but feverish. They’ve made for a good respite from legal jargon.
6. Is “Slow / Funeral” part of a larger project?
“SLOW/ FUNERAL” is one section of something I’m working on, “The 500 Mile Long Poem.” That larger poem obsesses about driving and uses lines as an odometer. I’ve tinkered with it off and on for a few years, but the project’s definitely worth the time and patience.