In the wet time, breathtaken

I have a new zine of poems that I'm proud and excited to share. Breathtaken is a series of eight poems about swimming pools, memory, family and identity. A few copies are for sale here. I'll also be reading from it at Tuesday Funk on Tuesday, June 4. Tuesday Funk is a consistently delightful show; I'm honored to be reading there again and I'd be so very pleased to see you.

The Breathtaken poems started from a prompt I gave myself to write about every swimming pool I could remember. Whether by astrology (triple Cancer, as watery as they come) or by happy association (learning to swim as a very small child from my beloved grandfather), I have always been drawn to water. I pictured the pools of my memory as a vast network of blue nodes on a map. Memories came alongside them: of being in my body, of being with my siblings, of the unique color of light that came through the windows of the pool on my college campus in the evenings. They coalesced around some images: trees, boundaries, the feeling of being held up by the water or by your own form inside it.

Tell me about some water you remember, or anything that comes to mind. I love getting responses to these messages. (And I'd love to hear your thoughts on the poems. Although I feel very tenderly towards them, even mixed reactions give me lots to think about.)