Anthony Desmond

Question 1

You and I both spent time / walking the boards of internet / chat room /poetry shops / where I could never grow/ because of the sycophantisms / a long kino with no soundtrack / we declared our homes / nuclear-free zones / and ate in carved granite halls / where each wall reflected stunted growth / and no hope / and like for a like please / do you think you found something in the comments of blogspots / or did you just delay the beauty I find so strong in your work / I leave a broken cigarette in a figure 8 by Michigan Avenue / and know it’s ok to embrace your idols / but not to inherit your friends

– Aaron Kent

Answer 1

Like a fallen tree floating
downstream–
no will no curiosity
no force, yet moving
forward with nothing
to look forward to.
This was my position:
on the edge of splitting
with no one to count
my growth rings.

– Anthony Desmond

Question 2

Did you know
there is evidence of salmon
with the rings of trees?
And you could swim upstream,
Anthony,
declare a war against
the currents – tides are suggesti
ons not reason to follow rules a
nd regulations. Break the dynam
ic of the twenty four hour news
cycle. Our ears are not trained t
o kill the demons of other peopl
e.

– Aaron Kent

Answer 2

I also mimic a bear—
knowledgeable of
the remnants of fish
amongst my progress.

The smell is pungent
like the breath of those
who smile in my face
and talk shit behind
my back.

– Anthony Desmond

Question 3

We could do 30 of these Anthony,
or 60, or infinite, or pi (and I stop point
one four through this poem). Or
try to re-enact the Fibonacci sequence
by doing question 1 twice, then 2, 3, 5,
8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144 until we collapse
into an exquisitely formed perfect spiral
and decide to agree that we’ll call it all
a metaphor for art, and then spend
days trying to work out what the metaphor
is: cyclical? Repetitive? Downward fall?
What do you think?

– Aaron Kent

Answer 3

The metaphor is a flushing
of innocence from the
purest forms of speech.
A statement can become
convoluted like twisted
empathy from the mouth
of a belligerent child
or clear like the river
I use in a lot of my pieces.
But, we all see differently:
some look in the mirror
and see all the things
one wishes they could change,
while the other—drenched
in a pool of self-acceptance
like a reflection in a lake
where the water is completely
still.

– Anthony Desmond

The poetic interview with Anthony Desmond is currently in progress.