Over the last few days, I’ve really been hitting the mark with my poems. Part of that stems from clarity and part of that clarity stems from inspiration and part of that inspiration stems from remembering what it is I really sound like, when I’m firing at full capacity.
I want my poetry to sound like Tyler Bagwell’s guitar strung through an amplifier powered by a speeding car on a dark road. I want it to sound like moonshine and hellfire in the mouth of a saint. And it will, by god. It will.
All of my best poems, I’ve written to the rhythm of the blues.