[Intro music]
Allison Arth: Hi everybody, and welcome to the Little Oracles podcast, an oracle for the everyday creative. I’m Allison Arth. Well, here we are in the fifth episode of the Divinations miniseries here on the Little Oracles podcast. If you're new to Divinations, first of all, welcome; I'm so glad you're here. Divinations is a special seven-episode series in which poet Sandra Yannone and I exchange poems based on the Little Oracles multimedia installation project I did back in 2022. And we're sharing these poems with each other and with all of you as works in progress, and we're talking about the creative process around them, and creative process in general, and creative collaboration – it's just a really good time all around. And if you want even more background on that original project and on this project, I'll link the first Divinations episode in the show notes, and you can find out more about the concept and about us, too. But before we really get into today's episode and today's poem, Sandy: welcome back; it's so good to see you.
Sandra Yannone: Hello, Allison. I am so enjoying when we come together to do this, uh–
AA: Me too!
SLY: It has been fabulous. So I'm looking forward to today as I have each episode; the– the wonder that will come from today.
AA: Yeah, I like that: “the wonder that will come from today.” That's something that I experience every time we get together. So today I am going to read a poem I wrote in response to Sandy's “Ecdysis Sonnet,” which we looked at in our previous episode, and we're going to unpack my poem after I read it, but in terms of, uh, setting the poem up before I read, I just want to note that the lexical fractal I chose from the original Little Oracles project was the word “pocket.” And I also was inspired by the suggestions of ecdysis — as in, shedding and renewal and possibility — that Sandy explored in her “Ecdysis Sonnet” in the last episode. So this poem is called “Articles of Incorporation.”
The teeth you use now were stuffed up in your head before
they descended, displacing the teeth you grew as a toddler,
the ones that fell out and made you a quarter,
your first ever capital. Turns out
it’s okay to sell yourself for profit, so long as it's mystic:
an economics of transubstantiation.
Once bought, I imagine teeth rove
all over: garbage cans,
your Dad’s dresser drawers, forgotten
pockets, the ocean.
Though sometimes you find them
thirty years later,
rattling around a blank plastic box,
and you wonder: were you to cast them
— you, diviner; you, divined —
what other life might you augur?
SLY: Well, Allison, we were just talking about the word wonder.
AA: Mm-hmm.
SLY: And the word wonder appears in the poem also, but what I– what I marvel at about this poem, is that it is both the narrative and the surreal all at once. And we don't see that that often in American poetry. It's usually an either–or; it's all narrative, or it's all surreal.
AA: Mm-hmm; mm-hmm.
SLY: What I also noted about it — folks listening, I have the pleasure of being able to see the poem: 16 lines.
AA: Yeah.
SLY: So in the way that American poets often also take liberty, it also felt very sonnet-esque to me.
AA: Yeah, that was kind of one of the ideas that I had going into it because you'd just written a sonnet too, the “Ecdysis Sonnet,” which is 15 lines, I believe. [chuckles]
SLY: Right! I had broken form also; I had broken form.
AA: [laughs] Yeah!
SLY: So we don't have the rhyme here, but we do have that beautiful, beautiful couplet at the end; and the poem: it's a couplet sandwich. There's the opening couplet; four-line quartets, three of them; and then the final couplet. So it's beautifully crafted. And there's some trickster energy here, because again, you do a double-take to see, is it a sonnet? Like, what is it doing here? But what I really want to start with — halfway through the podcast, “start with–” [chuckles]
AA: [laughs]
SLY: –is the ending of the poem, where you end on a question. How did you decide to end on a question? And why might we want to think about ending on a question in a poem, as opposed to we're often looking for the poem to be a container that by the time we get to the end, my professor, mentor, diviner of poetry we might even say, Lucie Brock-Broido would say, “Here's when we know we have a great poem: we get to the end, the box clicks shut.” And how does a question click the box shut? Isn't that a complete wide opening? So I wonder if you would talk a little bit about that decision to end on a question of divination.
AA: Yeah, I love that you are digging into this. This is something that I did when I was writing this poem; I, initially– it was almost like I was going to flip it, where the question was going to be at the beginning, but I'm so drawn to the hinge — and you touched on this as well when you talked about the surreal and the narrative, right? That to me is what defines, effectively, this idea of transubstantiation, which if, folks, if you're not familiar with transubstantiation, it's a religious concept — it is mainly in the Roman Catholic Church — and it's the idea that the blood in the body of Christ is literally consumed during the Eucharist; when you have Communion, and you take the bread and the wine, they're literally transformed into the blood and the body of Christ as a sacrament, and that moment of divine embodiment that people assume is happening has always fascinated me. So I really wanted to create that admixture of that narrative and those surreal elements, and you kind of see them throughout this poem.
SLY: Mm.
AA: And I thought that it didn't make a lot of sense in a poem that is about mixing the what-ifs and the concrete — you know, you have the teeth; you have the– the reality of money: there's quarters, capital in this poem; and the more surreal and divine elements of divination, and augury, and the tooth fairy. And it's this– this mixture of these things that is coming together in that idea of transubstantiation, and I didn't want it to be something that I answer because I want it to be more exploratory and more– more searching, I guess, in and of itself.
SLY: Like the divining rod, searching.
AA: Yeah! Yeah, kind of; yeah, yeah.
SLY: In progress. In process, as opposed to a completion.
AA: Yeah.
SLY: What I appreciate about what you just offered us was, kind of, where I was going to head next; and I would like to hear a little bit more about this, because what I was so struck by in this poem, and you've pointed out so well already, here we are with a poem about divination, and yet it is ballasted by the very business-y terms of a contract.
AA: Yeah.
SLY: That's basically what an “articles of incorporation” is: something that sanctions the founding of a business. And teeth themselves are such an amazing way to think of capital. The teeth are the currency in this poem. And there's the surreal, right? The mundane and the surreal are together. So how did you make the choice of steering toward this very corporate form, in a way?
AA: Honestly, it's the word incorporation.
SLY: Mm.
AA: Because I didn't come up with the title first. I wrote this poem and then I was like, “What am I gonna call this poem?” And so I was thinking about all of the things that are suggested, and this idea of transubstantiation, and embodiment, and what incorporation means, like, at its root: “corpor,” which is the body–
SLY: The body.
AA: Right?
SLY: Mm-hmm.
AA: And when you participate in a ritual like transubstantiation, like the Eucharist, like Communion, the idea behind that is that you are incorporating the blood and the body of Christ into your own corporeal form. So that's kind of what I was playing at there. But there's also a lot of, uh, overtones, I think, in this poem of some other ideas that I have about Catholicism, like, as a business, and as something that is very driven by money, and riches, and these earthly things. So it's something that I really find super fascinating about the world, and about this particular sect of Christianity. So I kind of leaned into that as I was titling the poem. [chuckles]
SLY: The more we talk about the poem and the title, the more I am convinced of the brilliance of the title, because it is truly a double entendre, because I think of it as, “Oh, there's a form; a format.” But, literally now, you're talking about it being of the body, and the articles are the literal things that we see in the poem, in that third stanza where teeth rove all over: garbage cans, your dad's dresser drawers, forgotten pockets, the ocean — that small litany incorporated within the poem.
AA: Yeah, it's like the whereas-es in some kind of contractual element, and it is like the liturgy where you say things, and it kind of makes it real, in a way, by listing things.
SLY: With that litany of objects, it was reminding me– you know how we've, in the program at different times, referred to other poems that it reminds us of?
AA: Yeah, yeah.
SLY: Well, this reminded me of one of my own poems that's in The Glass Studio. So there's a poem called “Luna Park at Nightmare at the Museum of Northwest Art,” and I'll just read the part that– that little litany that is very expansive in the middle of the poem made me think about this poem.
“Luna Park at Nightmare at the Museum of Northwest Art”
To make something / from nothing / perceived, smothered / like the wounded field / that becomes / carnival / overnight. / Suddenly, an island is a merry-go-round / of Technicolor wedding cakes / sacrificing bodies / to the strange / American / bleeding sky. / The individual / object / is easier / to dismiss / than the sum of her ridiculed / subway tokens. / Pen caps, flower frogs, Dixie / cups, sipping / straws. / How do I / become insignificant / like this? / How did I become / thrown away? / Love has a tinny taste / of crinkled foil. / Refuse is not the same / ice-cream flavor as refuge. / Remember this. / Remember her. / Remember each lick / until your teeth / knock again / on the sugar cone’s door.
AA: Oh, I love that. There is something so powerful in a litany and in a list, right? It is like conjuring.
SLY: Mm.
AA: It conjures images, it can conjure feelings, so many things. I feel like that is just a fundamental human tendency to list, and to surround, and to find, and collate, and collect. And I feel like that's why I'm drawn to that kind of litany in my work. And I wonder if that's the same for you as well.
SLY: You know, I think– I think for me, the litany, it's about also naming.
AA: Mm.
SLY: We really are drawn to name things.
AA: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
SLY: But for me, you talked about a little earlier, that idea of searching. And I feel like. But the litany often is reaching to try to make meaning.
AA: Mmm. I love that — that it can be so many things all at once.
SLY: Absolutely. Yeah, rather than absolutes, they're a grasping for more meaning. What could be next? What could be next? What could be next? And maybe you arrive, and maybe you don't.
AA: Mm-hmm. Maybe you click the box shut, and maybe you ask a question at the end. [laughs]
SLY: Click! [chuckles] So, at what point in the drafting of this draft, because I just will remind folks that are listening, these are poems that have only been living for a very short time, as we're talking about them.
AA: Mm-hmm.
SLY: At what point did you notice the convergence of all the things that we are talking about, because it is extremely layered, it's extremely sophisticated, and yet this is a very new poem.
AA: Mm-hmm; I love that question, because this is one that I did draft a lot of up top. So I had a couple of lines– when I first started this poem, it was about teeth and bones, and, like, those, kind of, really fundamental elements of the human body, and I wanted to explore that idea, and, you know, the idea of the tooth fairy, and, like, that– that mixing of the surreal and the concrete. But then I looked up “are teeth bones?” and they're not, [chuckles], so I was like: well, I can't keep going down this road, because I do prize veracity in the work that I do in some way. And so I had to kind of go down a different road; I had to back out a little bit, and think about teeth in a new way, and kind of frame them in a new way. And I started thinking more about the tooth fairy, and I started thinking more about what that actually signifies: when you're growing up and something falls out of your head, and you put it under your pillow, and then you get money for it. Like, that's– that's weird. That's a strange ritual, that we give our children money for parts of their body that we then throw in the trash? I don't know. And so I started seeing those hinges in this poem of these whimsical and surreal elements turning into these more mundane things, and these more monetarily driven things. And so I started thinking of other ways that I could bring those into the poem.
SLY: So I'm curious about the “you” in this poem.
AA: Mm.
SLY: Because we talked in the previous podcast about the use of “you” — the use of the second person.
AA: Yeah.
SLY: And was it a self referential back to the “I,” or is it a beloved. And in the same way that the sonnet is often an invocation and invitation of a plea to the beloved, this “you.” to me, does have that feeling of the “other,” that is not the “I” of the poem.
AA: Yeah; yeah, I– I definitely agree with that, yeah.
SLY: And I don't know why, but it's the line, “your dad's dresser.” Like, that could be my dad's dresser, or it could have been your dad's dresser, but it feels like an other's dresser. An other's dad. Not the “you-slash-I”’s dad. Not the speaker's dad, if all this is making sense, dear listeners, and dear Allison. [chuckles]
AA: [laughs] No, I get what you're saying. I get what you're saying.
SLY: And it's that direct address to the “you” at the end — “you diviner; you divined” — which elevates the diviner to an even further height: the diviner is divine.
AA: I love that you're seeing it that way, because definitely when I wrote it, I was borrowing that “you” idea from your “Ecdysis Sonnet.” I was like, “Maybe I'll try this out; maybe I'll experiment with what it is to write the ‘you’ as, kind of, a facsimile for the ‘I.’” But as I started writing it more, I think it goes back to those religious overtones that are in this poem, right? It feels like a sermon or like delivering some kind of message when you incorporate everybody, and you kind of fold them into the congregation, as it were, right? And so I'm thinking about this as something that is very, uh, inclusive and– and– and incorporating. And that's kind of why I wanted to lean into that “you.” Even though, you know, “sometimes you find them / thirty years later / rattling around a blank plastic box” — like, I literally did find my wisdom teeth; you know, this is something that I drew from an experience that I recently had cleaning out the attic at my parents’ house. And I wanted to bring that real situation and imbue it with some kind of divine energy, I guess– [chuckles]
SLY: Mm.
AA: –and think about it in a way that goes beyond the– the rootedness of the embodiment that is manifested in something like teeth.
SLY: Well, you certainly– you cast your die in the effort to write this poem, and it certainly is living up to what for me is that fifth line, “so long as it's mystic.” You lived up to the mysticism in this poem.
AA: Well, that is a beautiful segue into what we're going to be talking about in our next episode. As we like to do here in Divinations, we're going to tease the poem for next week, which is Sandy's poem. So Sandy, will you share just a little bit of that poem with us as a teaser before we head on out of this episode?
SLY: Sure.
The mystic in me seeks
a placard, a sign, an historical
marker, anything to reveal
what’s behind this random curtain
of padlocks occupying the chains
like bird shadows populate a wire.
AA: [singsong] Oh, I cannot wait to talk about this poem next episode! Sandy, thank you so much for collaborating with me on this. This is just an absolute joy for me. Before we go, what do you want to shout out? What's coming up? Where can we find you?
SLY: As usual, many Sundays, I'm hosting Cultivating Voices Live Poetry. And in addition to Cultivating Voices Live Poetry, at the time of our recording, I've just completed and submitted the final manuscript of The Glass Studio, my second collection, which will be coming out in February 2024 with Salmon Poetry. The poem, “Luna Park at Nightmare at the Museum of Northwest Art,” is the opening poem of the second section.
AA: Yay! I'm excited about that too.
SLY: Thank you.
AA: You can follow Little Oracles on Instagram (at) littleoracles. Check us out on the blog at little oracles dot com. You can find all the poems that Sandy and I are sharing there, and you can also find all of the lexical fractals, the original Little Oracles digital installation, in its entirety at little oracles dot com slash exhibit, so you can go ahead and check that out, and maybe use it for your own poetry project. We'll see you in our next Divinations episode, and until then: as always take care, keep creating and stay divine.
[Outro music]
[Secret outtake]
SLY: I will tell you where my baby teeth have resided.
AA: [laughs] Okay.
SLY: I will try to keep this as brief as possible. When I was born– [laughs]
AA: [laughs]
SLY: That does not suggest that this is going to be brief.
AA: No, it doesn't. [laughs]
SLY: [laughs] When you start out with “when I was born.’ [laughs]
AA: Right! [laughs]