Dobby Gibson Reads Diane Seuss

Summary

Detailed Summary of "Dobby Gibson Reads Diane Seuss" - The New Yorker: Poetry Podcast

Release Date: December 25, 2024

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Introduction

In the December 25th, 2024 episode of "The New Yorker: Poetry" podcast, hosted by Kevin Young of WNYC Studios and The New Yorker, the spotlight shines on acclaimed poet Dobby Gibson. Gibson, renowned for his five poetry collections including the latest, "Hold Everything," and recipient of prestigious fellowships from the Lannan Foundation, McKnight Foundation, Jerome Foundation, and the Minnesota State Arts Board, engages in an in-depth conversation with Young. The episode features a heartfelt exploration of Diane Seuss's poetry alongside Gibson's own evocative works.

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Diane Seuss's "I have Slept in Many Places For Years on Mattresses that Entered"

Reading the Poem

Kicking off the episode, Dobby Gibson shares his selection from Diane Seuss's repertoire: "I have Slept in Many Places For Years on Mattresses that Entered." Gibson reads the poem with palpable emotion, bringing to life its vivid imagery and rhythmic flow ([02:03]).

Choosing the Poem

Gibson elaborates on his selection, expressing his perennial excitement for any Diane Seuss poem. He remarks, “Any Diane Seuss poem is an event that I get very excited about” ([01:32]). Highlighting "Frank Sonnets," Seuss's Pulitzer-winning collection, Gibson praises it as one of the most exhilarating poetry books of recent decades ([01:32]-[01:52]).

Analysis of the Sonnet Form

The conversation delves into the structural intricacies of Seuss's poem. Gibson notes the effective use of internal rhyme and how Seuss diverges from the traditional Shakespearean sonnet's "chiming rhyme" to create a unique rhythmic pattern ([03:51]). He appreciates the employment of anaphora and the extensive listing of diverse sleeping places, which collectively narrate Seuss's life story within the compact sonnet form ([03:51]-[04:29]).

Themes and Imagery

Kevin Young probes the emotional and thematic depth of the poem, suggesting it transcends mere historical recounting to evoke a "history of a feeling" ([04:52]). Gibson concurs, likening Seuss's rich and sometimes surreal imagery to the original, more sinister fairy tales, distinguishing them from their sanitized Disney counterparts ([05:04]-[05:40]). This alignment with darker folklore underscores the poem's profound emotional resonance and imaginative scope ([05:40]-[07:38]).

Emotional Resonance and Storytelling

The discussion further explores how Seuss crafts a holistic narrative through meticulous detail. Gibson highlights the poem's ability to encapsulate a lifetime of experiences, from "the bed where my father ate his last pomegranate" to "holding my lamb like an army of lilacs" ([12:42]-[13:26]). This blend of personal history and fantastical elements creates a compelling and immersive storytelling experience within the sonnet's confines ([07:38]-[15:40]).

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Dobby Gibson’s "This Is a Test of the Federal Emergency Management Agency Wireless Warning System"

Introduction to the Poem

Transitioning to his own work, Kevin Young introduces Gibson's poem "This Is a Test of the Federal Emergency Management Agency Wireless Warning System" from The New Yorker's August 5, 2024 issue ([17:32]). Gibson proceeds to read the poem, which interweaves themes of sound, chaos, and surrealism ([17:48]-[19:20]).

Inspiration Behind the Poem

Gibson shares the genesis of his poem, recounting an experience on October 4th, 2023, when a FEMA test signal disrupted his open office workspace. The cacophony of the warning sound inspired him to transform the unsettling noise into a poetic form: “if I wrote a libretto for that horrible sound, what might that sound like?” ([19:33]-[20:10]).

Use of Sound and Musicality

The conversation shifts to the poem's auditory elements. Gibson explains that the musicality in his work serves as an "engine and a force" for generating associative energy, allowing the poem to flow organically ([21:46]-[22:07]). This conscious incorporation of internal rhyme and rhythm enhances the poem's immersive quality ([21:46]-[22:07]).

Incorporation of Humor and Modernity

Gibson emphasizes the role of humor in his poetry, stating, “I don't like the idea that poems should be solemn or be well-behaved” ([22:23]). The poem juxtaposes mundane elements with surreal, unsettling imagery—such as "miniature horses, pink ribbons in their tails"—to reflect contemporary anxieties and the bizarre nature of modern life ([24:07]-[25:46]). This blend of dark humor and vivid detail invites readers to engage with the poem on multiple levels, balancing levity with introspection ([22:23]-[25:46]).

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"Hold Everything" – Dobby Gibson’s Latest Collection

Themes and Significance

Exploring his collection "Hold Everything," Gibson explains that the title embodies dual concepts: the urgency of the poems' themes and a meticulous inventory of modern existence ([26:10]-[26:54]). The collection balances urgent societal commentary with personal reflections of gratitude, creating a multifaceted exploration of contemporary life ([26:10]-[26:54]).

Sonnet Sequence and Influences

Gibson acknowledges the profound influence of Diane Seuss on his work, noting that part of "Hold Everything" includes a sonnet sequence indebted to Seuss’s innovative use of the form ([26:54]-[27:09]). He discusses how poets like Wanda Coleman and Gerald Stern shaped his approach to the American sonnet, inspiring him to use it as a meditative tool to trace the "texture of time" ([27:32]-[28:04]).

Writing Process

Gibson shares insights into his disciplined writing regimen, emphasizing early morning sessions and productive weekends as key to his creative process ([28:04]-[29:30]). He describes poetry as a form of relentless creation: “if I can wake up and make something every day, then it's a great day,” highlighting the joy and fulfillment derived from consistent poetic practice ([28:25]-[29:09]).

Role of Poetry in Contemporary Society

Addressing the broader implications of poetry, Gibson reflects on its essential role in navigating a fractured, polarized society. He underscores poetry's capacity for "negative capability," providing a space for confusion, exploration, and the testing of ideas—a critical function in times of societal division ([30:29]-[30:54]).

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Conclusion

As the episode draws to a close, Kevin Young commends Dobby Gibson for his insightful analysis and compelling readings. He underscores the dynamic interplay between Diane Seuss's influential work and Gibson's innovative contributions to modern poetry. Gibson expresses gratitude for the opportunity to share his work and emphasizes the enduring importance of poetry in capturing and reflecting the complexities of contemporary life ([30:54]-[31:24]).

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Notable Quotes with Timestamps

• Dobby Gibson: “Any Diane Seuss poem is an event that I get very excited about.” [01:32]

• Dobby Gibson (Reading Seuss's Poem): “I have slept in many places for years on mattresses that entered my life via nothing but luck.” [02:03]

• Dobby Gibson (Reading His Own Poem): “Hasn't the goal all along been to make an unforgettable sound?” [20:10]

• Dobby Gibson: “I don't like the idea that poems should be solemn or be well-behaved.” [22:23]

• Dobby Gibson: “We have tremendous forces trying to divide us, trying to get us to think with absolute certitude about the world.” [30:29]

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This episode offers a profound exploration of modern poetry through the lenses of both Diane Seuss and Dobby Gibson. Gibson's thoughtful readings and analyses provide listeners with a deeper understanding of poetic forms, themes, and the vital role poetry plays in contemporary discourse.

Transcript

[Dobby Gibson]

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[Kevin Young]

Hi, you're listening to the New Yorker Poetry Podcast. I'm Kevin Young, poetry editor of the New Yorker Magazine. On this program, we invite a poet to pick a poem from the New Yorker Archive to read and discuss. Then they read one of their own poems that's been published in the magazine today. My guest is Dobby Gibson, who's the author of five poetry collections, including, most recently, Hold Everything. He's also the recipient of fellowships from the Lannan foundation, the McKnight foundation, the Jerome foundation, and the Minnesota State Arts Board. Dobby, welcome. Thanks for joining me.

[Dobby Gibson]

Thanks, Kevin. Glad to be here.

[Kevin Young]

So the first poem you've chosen to read is I have Slept in Many Places For Years on Mattresses that Entered by Diane Suess. Tell us, what was it about this poem that caught your attention when you were looking through the archive?

[Dobby Gibson]

Well, for me, any Diane Suess poem is an event that I get very excited about. This particular poem comes from her book Frank Sonnets, which won the Pulitzer Prize a few years ago, and for me is just one of the most exciting books of poems of the past couple decades. So it was a super quick choice and I'm excited to talk about it with you.

[Kevin Young]

Well, why don't we hear the poem? This is Dobby Gibson reading I have Slept in Many Places for Years on Mattresses that Entered by Diane Suess.

[Dobby Gibson]

I have slept in many places for years on mattresses that entered I have slept in many places for years on mattresses that entered my life via nothing but luck As a child on wet sheets I could not contain myself. As a teen on the bed where my father ate his last pomegranate among crickets and chicken bones, in ditches in the bare grass, on the lavish grounds of a crumbling castle, in a flapping German circus tent, in a lean to my head on the belly of a sick calf, in a terrible darkness where a shrew tried to stay afloat in a bucket of well water, in a blue belfry, on a pink couch being Eaten from the inside by field mice on bare floorboards, by TV light with mickle on locust place on an amber throne of cockroach casings on a carpet of needles from a cemetery pine in a clubhouse circled by crabapple trees with high school boys who are now members of a megachurch In a hotel bathtub in St. Augustine after a sip from the fountain of youth cold on a cliff's edge Passed out cold on train tracks in a hospital bed holding my lamb like an army of lilacs.

[Kevin Young]

That was I have slept in many places for years on mattresses Then Entered by Diane Seuss, which was published in the September 14, 2020 issue of the New Yorker. I loved hearing you read that poem, and I'm so glad you told us before that it was a sonnet. This poem, I think, has this great roundness. What makes it for you a sonnet Besides it being 14 lines?

[Dobby Gibson]

Well, there is that internal rhyme that Diane uses so effectively. So this doesn't have the chiming rhyme of Shakespearean sonnet, but it's all held together by her sonnets. And then also, of course, the anaphora and the listing of all these different places that she slept. And I think in that way, this poem is such a great encapsulation of Frank Sonnet's the book. I mean, here she's telling us her life story in a single sonnet, just by listing all these amazing, outrageous places that she slept in the course of her amazing life.

[Kevin Young]

Do you take it literally, then? I mean, I take it as kind of using that world a sonnet can create, which is a world of desire, experience, loss, yearning. There's something about it that it's kind of perfect for history, but also not interested in history qua history. You know, it's not interested in history that you find in a book. Instead, it's the history of a feeling, for sure.

[Dobby Gibson]

And it was making me think, like, can you imagine playing two lies and a truth or whatever that game is with Diane Suess? Like, you would never win because the truth, as fantastic as her imagination is.

[Kevin Young]

That's right. My head on the belly of a sick calf in a terrible darkness where a shoe tried to stay afloat in a bucket of well water. There's that kind of almost fairy tale quality. But maybe Alice in Wonderland is a more accurate, like that kind of terrible, terrifying quality that gets into Lewis Carroll. There's something like that here.

[Dobby Gibson]

I'm so glad you brought that up. I was thinking of fairy tales too. And of course we're talking about the fairy Tales before Disney got hold of them. The real fairy tales, the original fairy tales, which are terrifying and strange. And I'm seeing that here, too.

[Kevin Young]

Yeah. When people say we had a fairy tale wedding, I'm like, ugh, like someone lost a foot, you know, like, this is terrible.

[Dobby Gibson]

Exactly. Exactly.

[Kevin Young]

For me. When does it happen that we know we're not only in the realm of experience, though I think what's powerful about it is it evokes experience. And, you know, I'll say it again. For me, a good poem, you know, evokes rather than describes. You know, it is an event, as Robert Lowell says, It's not just the record of an event. And there's something about that moment when it says, my life, I had nothing but luck as a child. On wet sheets, I could not contain myself. And then, in a way, the poem can't contain itself. We have the feeling that if it wasn't a sonnet, it would keep going because there's this kind of rolling accumulation that happens in the poem.

[Dobby Gibson]

Yeah. Mattresses that entered my life via nothing but luck. That's magical right there. And so then we are kind of in this other realm.

[Kevin Young]

Well, and something about this specificity as well. On bare floorboards, by TV light with Mikkel on Locust Place. Okay. You know, by then you could take me anywhere. I mean, I'm with you. And I think there's something about that eye as a kind of guide that starts but then is not there, but is in every moment. In choice, you know, we're seeing a self that is, in a way, even though it's describing precarity in some senses, is also describing wonder and this kind of generosity, in a way, just by embracing everything.

[Dobby Gibson]

Yeah. And the stuff of a Diane Seuss poem. In here, we have crickets, we have chicken bones. At the end of this poem, you feel like you're picking leaves and acorns out of your hair. You feel like you've really been somewhere extraordinary. It's so lush with these sort of details.

[Kevin Young]

Well, how do you create a sort of whole world in a sonnet? Is that the sonnet's job usually, or is that just when it's done right?

[Dobby Gibson]

That's such a good question. I mean, in the case of this poem, I think so much of the world is the voice. It's so compelling, and you trust it. This book is called Frank Sonnets, partly as an homage to Frank O'Hara, who appears in other poems within this collection, but also, quite literally, Diane Seuss's Being Frank here. And so there is just that really direct, very intimate voice that pulls us into this poem and just holds it together throughout.

[Kevin Young]

Is it a kind of American voice, you think? How do you.

[Dobby Gibson]

I think so. It's not entirely vernacular because it is sort of extraordinary in both its details and in its sonics. But she is also renowned as a poet for just being very blunt and being a poet of the body. And so there isn't a politeness to the poem. It's direct. I mean, the other connection I made with this poem, spending time with it, is the Canterbury Tales. I mean, we have here a traveler who's telling us their amazing story through this conceit of all the different places they've slept. So that also, I think, makes it feel kind of ancient or connected to poetry in a broader tradition.

[Kevin Young]

Well, and even every line or phrase separated by a comma is a kind of novel in a clubhouse circled by crabapple trees with high school boys who are now members of a megachurch. And just as we're catching up to that, we're in St. Augustine in the Fountain of Youth, you know, and we.

[Dobby Gibson]

Should mention this is all one sentence. So it's all just one utterance, which it just really kind of hurtles us through the poem.

[Kevin Young]

I think it's interesting because I think the long lines in the whole book do something powerful, but also I think something different line to line, which isn't easy when you're cataloging or listing or repeating. You almost start to have a temptation to have it be even. But Diana, I think here really shows us the way that variety leads to the music. Or maybe it's the music leads to the variety. And, you know, if all the phrases were the same, it wouldn't have that same feeling. There's something musical about it. And of course, that's the sonnet for you. It's, you know, a little song. I love that quality that is throughout the poem. And sonnets also are traditionally love poems. Do you think of this as a love poem?

[Dobby Gibson]

I think so. And I think throughout the book, there's love for Mickle, who's a character, a friend of hers who's important to the book, and even Frank O'Hara to a degree. And of course, her father. The death of her father when she was 7 is one of the great subjects of her poetry in this book and other books. So I think there is a love song component to it. But with Diane Suess, there's always multiple things going on at once. And for that reason, you know, the sonnet is never boring. In her hands and in this book. It's extraordinary to see, you know, she stretches the sonnet out and some of them are shaggier and some of them are tighter and have tighter rhymes. And just being a fan of hers, I know she's talked of the importance of Wanda Coleman and Gerald Stern and other practitioners of the so called American Sonnet that helped to give her permission to do what she does in this poem and the larger book, Frank Sonnets.

[Kevin Young]

It's one of the weeks I miss teaching, which was American Sonnets, which I'm glad it's now a term. I think when I started writing about it, I was thinking of Wanda Coleman, of course, or Berryman or Ted Berrigan, who all had this tradition that they kind of each made separately, sometimes around the same time. But then now we look back and see the ways that the sonnet mid century and after really changed to me. And you know, this is one of the great ones and one of the great series. You know, I love a good series. And as you suggest you tell these stories over time, you know, the sonnet in a way is the first novel. It's the first big long narrative beyond the epic that's sort of broken up in these little bits that you assemble something out of.

[Dobby Gibson]

Right, I love that.

[Kevin Young]

Anyway, enough. On my lecture on the American sonnet, I want to ask about the father line. As a teen on the bed where my father ate his last break pomegranate. And then we get among crickets and chicken bones, in ditches, in the bare break grass, on the lavish grounds of a crumbling castle. And there's a way that, you know, there's the childhood, but as you point out, this loss that looms large on the page, you know, just going for the last word of the last four lines entered, not last, bare.

[Dobby Gibson]

There's loss there, there is in that sharp assonance with crickets, chicken bones, ditches. And then we get the consonant's crumbling castle. And yeah, that image of her father eating his last pomegranate seems straight out of a really spooky fairy tale.

[Kevin Young]

Well, it's myth, right? It's forbidden fruit, but it's also the fruit of the underworld that keeps you there. And there's something really haunting, simple, beautiful about that. And the echo for me is in that last line. In a hospital bed holding my lamb like an army of lilacs. How do you hear that and how do you read that?

[Dobby Gibson]

There's a little bit of a Pieta kind of posture to this poem of Diane. She's clutching the lamb. But she's also clutching the memory of her father. So I'm feeling that quite viscerally in this poem and thinking about it throughout the broader book, for sure, of course. Does that make sense? Do you see that too?

[Kevin Young]

Yes. I mean, I like what you said. If I'm quiet, it's because I'm trying to think about all the things it is. And that's, I think, really smart and spot on. I also think there's something about the sounds, you know, hospital holding lamb, like an army of lilacs, you know, and the strangeness of being a body and of loss and all those things sort of come to bear. It's like a strange thing, like another strange thing. And I love that. It feels like exactly right. It couldn't have been said a different way, but at least I couldn't have gotten there. And I think the poem has all the visceral things and then it has this moment which both is visceral and, I think, blooming constantly. And there's something about it that every time I look at it, it shifts. Holding my lamb, it's like holding it tight, wanting it to survive. But then it's also this army of lilacs, which is a kind of contradiction, but also a kind of marshaling of forces, it seems to me, this moment of real reckoning. Yeah.

[Dobby Gibson]

And it's such an arresting last image. And, you know, no one ever talks about poems as page turners, but Frank Sonnets is a book where it's just irresistible to keep going. When these sonnets end, as they all do throughout this book in these really amazing ways, it just makes you so hungry to find out what happens next in her life. And she's moving backward and forward in time and it's unlike any other book of poems I can remember reading.

[Kevin Young]

Or from my conversation with Avi Gibson after the break.

[Dobby Gibson]

Hi, this is David Remnick. I'm proud to share the news that three films from the New Yorker documentary series have been shortlisted for the Academy Awards, and they are incident, seat 31, Zoe Zephyr and Eternal Father. And they all immerse you in the finest cinematic journalism, exploring themes of justice, identity and the bonds that shape us. These extraordinary films, which were created by established filmmakers as well as emerging artists, will inform, challenge and move you. I encourage you to watch them along with our full slate of documentary and narrative [e-mail] video. This episode is presented by W. Hotels from Shanghai to New York. I love hotels that feel like a living, breathing part of a city. And makes me feel like I'm experienced, experiencing that place in an authentic, holistic way. In the early 19th century, the Viennese waltz overtook dance floors, known as a scandalous dance where partners were intimately close and spinning in circles. Today, the music and dance itself are a beloved part of Vienna's cultural legacy, thanks to the music of Johann Strauss Jr. And the entire Strauss family. In 2025, Austria celebrates Strauss 200th anniversary with over 600 pieces of his music echoing throughout Vienna all year long. Discover the magic of the waltz where it originated. Learn more at austria.info strauss.

[Kevin Young]

Now in our August 5, 2024 issue, the new Yorker published your poem this Is a Test of the Federal Emergency Management Agency Wireless Warning System, which you'll read for us in a moment. Did you want to say anything about the poem before we hear it?

[Dobby Gibson]

No, I think we can just go for it.

[Kevin Young]

Here's Dobby Gibson reading his poem this Is a Test of the Federal Emergency Management Agency Wireless Warning System.

[Dobby Gibson]

This is a test of the Federal Emergency Management Agency Wireless Warning System. We've all walked into the bar of a joke we'll never get. Knock, knock from the evangelicals inviting you to pancakes. Knock, knock from democracy looking for its key fob. Don't open the door if the knob feels warm. When all goes quiet, you'll know the wolves have you right where they want you. Some days more than anything, I want my old bike back. Some nights I switch on the porch light to watch the bugs. It's nice to have something bright and buzzing to gather around. Hasn't the goal all along been to make an unforgettable sound? For Beethoven, the ringing in his ears never stopped for miles. There was no wrong note, only what comes next, and it's hard not to fear what comes next. One summer the emergency is the butterflies vanish. The next it's nothing but smoke. What's really scary are miniature horses, pink ribbons in their tails, prancing around the fair while everyone conceals and carries and cotton candy fills the air. A fortune lurks at the center of every grapefruit. There's a howl coming from inside the glacier. An old car backfires. Then the sky is full of crows.

[Kevin Young]

That was this Is a Test of the Federal Emergency Management Agency Wireless Warning System by Dobby Gibson. So did the title come first here? When did that title come?

[Dobby Gibson]

So the story with this poem is I was at work. I have an office job. This was October 4th of 2023, when FEMA sent out this test signal to all of our electronic devices and so because I was in this open workspace with a bunch of knowledge workers who all had two or three devices per person. It was just a cacophony of this horrible sound. And I couldn't stop thinking about it the rest of the day. And I just wondered, basically, if I wrote a libretto for that horrible sound, what might that sound like? And that was the genesis of the poem. And then I was off and running.

[Kevin Young]

Was this idea in the middle? Hasn't the goal all along been to make an unforgettable sound? It feels like, to me, like the kind of fulcrum of the poem. You know, there's a before and then there's a kind of after, which is trying to talk about sound in a different way from some days more than anything. I want my old bike back.

[Dobby Gibson]

I think that's really perceptive. I mean, that's a statement of poetics in and of itself. And that's really the transformation I was trying. Can I make something that's just the most horrible thing in the world into something that's interesting or beautiful and kind of like Orpheus singing so beautifully he drowns out the sirens? I guess it kind of goes back to that sort of idea, as arrogant or wild as that might sound.

[Kevin Young]

Well, I think there's also this quality of dark humor in the beginning of the poem. Some nights I switch on the porch light to watch the bugs. It's nice to have something bright and buzzing to gather around. And then you have this rhyme of around. And hasn't the goal all along been to make an unforgettable sound? And then we start to notice, if we haven't already, those pickups of rhyme, which I know you're aware of. Fob knob. These ways that you're playing with language. How do you marshal those? Are those something that come for you? For me, it's more like later I realize, oh, man, I was doing some internal rhyme in there. Is it a music that you're hearing, or is it a music you're trying for? Or is that not the right question?

[Dobby Gibson]

No, it's a good question. It's much more the latter for me, where the music becomes part of the act of composition. And the less conscious I am of it, the better. Because it's an engine and it's a force for helping me to make these associations. Because that's the other thing I think this poem is doing. Or the logic of it is just this kind of wild associative energy.

[Kevin Young]

Well, how do you think about humor in a poem? I mean, you Start with a joke, or the joke will never get. Is that poetry or is it like a cosmic joke? How do you think about humor in poetry, which I know is something you've used?

[Dobby Gibson]

Yeah, I mean, I don't like the idea that poems should be solemn or be well behaved. And I think humor's such an effective tool to get people to pay attention and to get myself to pay attention and even be interested. And I'm glad you're picking up on this. This has been a really fun poem to read out loud.

[Kevin Young]

I was hearing the crowd chuckle or maybe go fog. How aware are you of that, how people are gonna hear it? This is a poem about sound, after all. Is there some of that in your writing or certainly your reading?

[Dobby Gibson]

I think so. And I mean, any poem I'm working on is. I think any respectable poet will do. I'll read it out loud to try and hear how it sounds just in a room. And to hear whether the rhymes and the other assonance, consonants, other effects that I'm trying to add to the poem or have become integral to the poem in composition are effective.

[Kevin Young]

So amazing to me how we all approach it differently. And how after a while, you hear it without hearing it. You know, hearing you read it changes it, of course. But there's a music that's just waiting for us, and I love that. And however you get there, we love.

[Dobby Gibson]

Do you read your poems out loud?

[Kevin Young]

Way later than I would have thought. My theory of them is that they have a sound. And sometimes they sound different in my head, of course. And it's the music in the head I think sometimes you're trying to capture. So what about these miniature horses? Tell me about the terrifying miniature horses. And is that sort of the banality of evil? You know, how do you think of it now, looking at it and hearing it aloud?

[Dobby Gibson]

I didn't want this poem to just be a litany. I wanted it to be strange. And I wanted it to get at the really peculiar texture of our current moment. Where it's not just the big things that are scary, although they are awfully scary right now. But that makes, just like you're saying the most banal thing also seem terrifying. And so it just takes on new levels and new resonances.

[Kevin Young]

Well, and I think there the miniature horse is prancing while everyone conceals and carries. And cotton candy fills the air. And the rhyme of fair and air, it allows this moment of not just strangeness, but kind of deep mystery. The glacier, the grapefruit, the howl, the crows. You're not trying to wrap it up, in my opinion. You know, you're trying to leave us in that unsettled place. And that's not easy. I mean, it could have ended with these miniature horses and be only commentary. And I feel like what it does is leave us in this place of mystery and menace and that startling feeling that I think captures the origins of the poem, as you put it, in this actual warning. But it's a different kind of warning, too.

[Dobby Gibson]

And that's kind of the uncomfortable tension at the heart of the poem. We have the technology to deliver this alert to everybody's mobile device, but we can't even know where all the threats.

[Kevin Young]

Are coming from, and we can't find the device. Sometimes it's just loudly in the other room or in a pocket we can't access.

[Dobby Gibson]

That's right.

[Kevin Young]

How do we kind of think about that? I was wondering, too, about the book. This comes from Hold Everything. How do you think about that title and I guess maybe the book as a whole. Were you writing in sequence? Thinking of the sonnets we were talking about with Diane Zeus. How does the book and the poem, how do they relate to each other for you?

[Dobby Gibson]

Yeah. So the title, Hold Everything, refers to both this idea of there's urgent news that I'm bringing or the poems are bringing. And certainly this poem is a demonstration of that. There are also poems in the book that allude to that other reading of Hold Everything, where they're doing kind of a more tender accounting, for lack of a better phrase. Just asking you to pay attention. My wife works in retail environments, and once a year they perform inventory. So they lock the front door of the establishment and they count everything that's in there. And I've always felt like, well, that makes a lot of sense to me. And so there's a little bit of that going on in the book, too.

[Kevin Young]

It's an inventory of our modern moment.

[Dobby Gibson]

You think? Yeah, yeah. And just my own gratitude. There's a lot of gratitude in the other poems that are in the collection. And there is a sonnet sequence in the collection that, as I acknowledge at the end of the book, owes a debt to Diane Seuss, for sure.

[Kevin Young]

And for you, how do you approach the sonnet? One of my favorite forms. I mean, I'm always trying to smuggle in sonnets into books. And for me, there were times I thought, okay, this is gonna be a sonnet sequence. And then there were times when I looked back and I think, wait, I'm writing poems that are 13 lines, 15 lines, 14 lines. Almost accidentally. And, oh, I better look toward what the form is trying to tell me.

[Dobby Gibson]

That is exactly what happened to me. I came into the form quite accidentally, but at the same time, I was really inspired by Diane Suess using the sonnet as a means of writing a memoir. Terence Hayes using the sonnet as a site of protest. But for me, I was interested in using the sonnet as a meditative engine. And could I track the texture of time on a moment by moment basis? Whether I pulled it off or not, readers will have to decide. That was what was really driving me.

[Kevin Young]

And you said you work an office job, Is that right?

[Dobby Gibson]

I do.

[Kevin Young]

When do you write? I hate this question, by the way. That's why I'm asking you. So when do you write?

[Dobby Gibson]

I have to get up before everyone else does and try and put in some work before I go off to work. And then the weekends are also really good writing time for me.

[Kevin Young]

I love that you said put in work before work, because that's what it feels like, I think, especially if you're in the groove, let's call it, and you're working. And for me, a regular time doesn't always appear, but when I'm in the habit of writing and finding that time, it can be really magical and transporting. And then all day you're sort of on and buzzing and recording, as it were, and then you're getting it down or getting it out. I'm not sure which it is.

[Dobby Gibson]

Yeah, as poets, we're just makers. And if I can wake up and make something every day, then it's a great day. And not everything's gonna work out or be usable in the end, but it's doing the work that brings me so much pleasure.

[Kevin Young]

And do you like having something totally different than the poetry?

[Dobby Gibson]

I do. I came to poetry late and by accident, and so it feels covert a little bit, and it feels more charged and like my own private territory, at least in the composition stage, before it becomes to talk to Kevin Young on the New Yorker Poetry podcast.

[Kevin Young]

And when you say late, tell us what that means for you.

[Dobby Gibson]

Yeah, so I was a fiction student in an MFA program at Indiana University, and that was the first time in my life that I was around other living poets, and they started to hand.

[Kevin Young]

Me the dark side, the right side. That's lovely.

[Dobby Gibson]

They were handing me contraband, the different.

[Kevin Young]

Smuggling slim volumes to you. Is there anything else we need to know about how you're thinking about poetry these days? Because I think it's a really important moment. I'm seeing poets really trying to do some of what you're doing here, which is how do you talk about it? Slant? How do you talk about this moment or that moment, or our lives or modern life or however you want to define the big space? How do you talk about it? I love how you found a way, but I'm curious if you think about it and stand back and see it in that way.

[Dobby Gibson]

I think about it all the time. There are tremendous forces trying to divide us, trying to get us to think with absolute certitude about the world. And I just come to poetry so grateful to have a space for negative capability, for confusion, testing out ideas. It just feels more vital to me now than it ever has.

[Kevin Young]

Beautifully put. Well, thank you so much for talking with me today, Dobby. It's been a real pleasure.

[Dobby Gibson]

I've loved it. Thanks, Kevin.

[Kevin Young]

This is a test of the Federal Emergency Management Agency Wireless Warning System by Dobby Gibson, as well as Diane Seuss's I have slept in many places for Years on mattresses that entered can be found on New Yorker. Diane Seuss's most recent book is Modern Poetry. Dobby Gibson's latest collection is Hold Everything.

[Dobby Gibson]

You may subscribe to this podcast, the Fiction Podcast, the Writer's Voice Podcast, and the Politics and More podcast by searching for the New Yorker in your podcast app. You can hear more poetry read by the authors on newyorker.com and the New Yorker app, available from the App Store or from Google Play Play. The theme music is the Corner by Chief Zion Otunde Ajua courtesy of Stretch Music and Rope a Dope. The New Yorker Poetry Podcast is produced by Chloe Prosinos with help from Hannah Eisenman. Hi, I'm Deborah Treisman, fiction editor of the New Yorker. Each week on the Writer's Voice podcast, New Yorker fiction writers read newly published stories from the magazine. You can hear from authors like Colson Whitehead. Turner nudged Elwood, who had a look.

[Kevin Young]

Of horror on his face. They saw it. Griff wasn't going down. He was going to go for it. No matter what happened after or Joy.

[Dobby Gibson]

Williams, her father was silent. Slowly he passed his hand over his hair. This usually meant that he was traveling to a place immune to her presence, a place that indeed contradicted her presence. She might as well go to lunch, listen to news stories or dive into our archive of great fiction. You can find the work of your favorite fiction writers and discover new ones. Listen and follow the Writer's Voice wherever you get your podcasts from PRX.