Tiana Clark: “I agree with Terrance Hayes: ‘… everything is a metaphor for sex.’ This poem evolved while unpacking my religious upbringing by converging the sacred and the sensual, the holy and the profane. Ranier Maria Rilke said ‘… the artist’s experience lies so unbelievably close to the sexual, to its pain and its pleasure, that the two phenomena are really just different forms of one and the same longing and bliss.’ When I decided to stop writing out of fear, the mist began to rise when my pen slid across the page. This is why I love to write poetry—because of the steam, that ineffable cloud that embodies the nebulous memories inside our minds.” (web)
Tiana Clark: “I was driving home one night in a trance, under a spell of highway hypnosis. NPR was playing in the background, discussing Maureen Corrigan’s book, So We Read On, about the story behind The Great Gatsby. Something about Terry Gross’s intoning voice and the interstate’s passing white lines drummed up the genesis for this poem about identity. Growing up biracial in the South, other kids would often ask, ‘What are you?’ In many ways, I’m still searching in my work to answer that question. Race, spirituality, family, gender—my obsessions converge in my poems, sometimes to subsist, sometimes to subvert. I look for my place between the classic and modern traditions by breaking and creating new forms. I like poems that take risks. I find it infectious, as I start to become more reckless in my work. I write to access that blood-jet pulse—to rake my flaws across the page, sift through my past hoping to find grace, connection, empathy, power, and—most of all—honesty.” (web)
Tiana Clark: “In a voicemail Sandra Bland left during her time in jail, in regards to her situation, she said she was “at a loss for words.” I have felt that speechlessness all week as I was processing how I felt about what happened, especially being a black woman in America. I found myself becoming anxious while driving in my car—wondering will I be next? People have been posting her YouTube videos from her channel, Sandy Speaks. I was especially taken with one video; in it she has just survived an accident where a motorcycle crashed into her car. In the video she repeats, “You can’t tell me God ain’t good,” over and over again. I started crying, as she was crying in the video. It felt like a release of my grief and I began to write this poem for her. Let us not forget, let us keep saying her name.” (website)