Robert Carr is the author of Amaranth, published by Indolent Books and The Unbuttoned Eye, from 3: A Taos Press. Recent work has appeared in The Cortland Review, Shenandoah, and other journals. More information can be found at robertcarr.org

Robert’s poem “The Bearer” appears in the Winter 2021 issue of Carve. Order the print issue here.

What about poetry moves you to write in that medium? Have you ever written in other genres or has it always been poetry for you?

Poetry as condensed thought, the precise representation of an emotional state, has always attracted me. Early drafts of my poems are often abstract, and I value the process of understanding why images come to me and how they connect to narrative. It’s actually just over the past six years that I’ve dedicated myself to the craft. Between studying literature as an undergraduate and my first published collection, I chose a 35 year career in infectious disease response, originating through the HIV/AIDS pandemic. As a creative endeavor, poetry is the genre that’s helped me document a lifetime of experience. Right now, the precision of poetry is serving me well. 

Your poem “The Bearer” includes lots of jarring and invocative imagery that ultimately showcases a narrative of grief and mourning. Is it hard for you to pack so many images into such a small space and tight lines? How selective are you when deciding what images to leave out and what to include?

“The Bearer” is a poem that originated in a single dream image, the image of flames burning in my dog’s eye sockets. I have a whippet that’s getting on in years and I’ve been worrying about his health.  This image haunted me for several days, and connected me to a familiar theme in my life and poetry – anticipatory grief. The poem evolved over several months. In my writing process, early drafts are often written on my phone. The words come to me, I have to write them down in the moment, and the one writing device I have is the smartphone! My challenge, including my process with “The Bearer,” is how to infuse images with a narrative thread that sustains emotional impact. Every image in the final poem has to be there for a reason that I understand and that the reader could understand. I feel that this poem walks the rope between image and narrative and I’m thrilled that “The Bearer” found a home with Carve Magazine.  

Are there any classic or more modern poets that you draw writing inspiration from? What are you reading right now?  

One of the odd but wonderful byproducts of the current pandemic has been virtual opportunities to work with poets I greatly admire. Over the past several months I’ve engaged in workshops with Peter Campion, Nickole Brown, and Jessica Jacobs. I’m currently working with Lauren Camp and Sean Singer, both exceptionally talented writers. Right now I’m reading The Letters of Robert Duncan and Denise Levertov, edited by Robert Bertholf and Albert Gelpi. In my own development as a poet, close relationships with other writers are essential, and I’m fascinated to see how these master poets exchanged ideas and work.  

How do you decide what subject matter to tackle in your poetry? Is there a line you draw when it comes to being vulnerable in your work? Are there any particular subjects you’d like to tackle going into the New Year? 

On a number of levels, I’ve found that life experience dictates the core subject matter of my poems. As a queer man who experienced the death of peers through the early AIDS pandemic, and dedicated his career to infectious disease response, the intersection of sexuality, illness, and death is foundational. There are no lines drawn for me in regard to vulnerability and poetry. I’ve learned that this work requires full transparency. My one caveat is when I’ve written a poem that could hurt someone I love. This doesn’t mean that I don’t write the poem, but could have an impact on how or whether I publish it. My husband refers to this group of poems as my posthumous collection!  In other words, “You can publish these over your dead body.” 2020 was a profoundly transitional year for me. I retired from my career in public health, somewhat ironically, in the early months of COVID19. In some of the new poems, I’m exploring parallel themes of human experience through the AIDS and COVID19 pandemics.  

What are you working on right now? 

My first full-length collection of poems, The Unbuttoned Eye, was published by 3: A Taos Press in 2019. This collection focuses on the early years of the AIDS pandemic and the affirmation of the erotic. In 2021 I hope to expand a collection of new poems that revisit the loss of my mother several years ago and my current experience of providing care for my 93 year old dad. My most recent poems are ‘closer to home,’ if you will. Family, home, the process of aging.  This new work broadens my exploration of intimacy and death, and includes “The Bearer.” 

What advice do you have for aspiring poets? 

Ignore all limits placed on aspiration, by yourself or others. I have always loved poetry, but chose a long career in public health before aspiring to poetry. Ask yourself what exactly you aspire to, and why. If you have a passion for teaching and literature and want to teach poetry in an academic environment, and you aspire to be a poet, do it. If you have a passion for medicine, for farming, for parenting, for retail management, do it. Find your aspiration to write poems when you’re 16, or 40, or 80. I published my first poem at age 55. Remain open, and when the poems find you, write them.