Courtney Buder (she/they) is a writer and visual artist living in Fredericton, New Brunswick, on unceded Wolastoqey land. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Geist Magazine, Arc Poetry, Queen’s Quarterly, Room Magazine, The Common, and elsewhere.
You can read Old Burial Ground (1784) in the July 2025 issue.
Would you like to tell us a little bit more about your poem? For instance, how or why you wrote it, or perhaps provide some extra context?
I write often about cemeteries. For nearly a year, walking through the Old Burial Ground in Fredericton was part of my daily routine. I’ll say that the entirety of that nearly-a-year is compressed into Old Burial Ground (1784).
Is there a collection of poetry that never leaves your (perhaps metaphorical) nightstand?
I have a notebook into which I copy individual poems that particularly resonate with me. The first entry is Other Lives And Dimensions And Finally A Love Poem by Bob Hicok and the most recent is The More Loving One by W. H. Auden.
We love the artistic underdogs, the experimentalists, the lovely weirdos — who or what might you get creative joy or energy from that others might not be aware of yet?
Public libraries are underutilized sources of creative energy and joy. Walking through the stacks and checking out whatever titles happen to draw my interest has consistently been the most rewarding practice in my life. It’s also free.
Are there other art forms that inspire or inform your poetry?
Every other art form inspires and informs my poetry. Prose inspires me to no end. Shirley Jackson is particularly significant. I’ve recently been revisiting Corey Isenor’s photographs of Halifax and David Herzog’s photographs of houses. Live music is also huge. The way it feels is something I someday hope to put into words.
What are you reading or watching or listening to lately that intrigues or inspires you?
Frank Herbert’s Dune has deeply sunk its teeth into me. The clarity and gravity of the writing are incredible. Additionally, as I eagerly await seeing 28 Years Later in theatres, I’ve been replaying the trailer. The haunting rendition of Rudyard Kipling’s poem Boots used therein has been echoing in my head for the past six months. Zombie stories (and horror more broadly) employ grief as a theme in ways that I find uniquely compelling.
Have you ever received advice (or has there been something you’ve learned on your own) about writing or revising poems that has made you a better poet? What was it?
The things you write will never (and should never) stop feeling like you were the person who wrote them. Your own voice should never be confused with the things you can improve upon by studying craft or the work of poets you admire. Take criticism gratefully and apply it thoughtfully, but also pay close attention to the aspects of your writing that mentors and readers praise.
Do you write by routine or do you wait for the poetry to visit you?
I only write when I have something to say. There are periods of time when it’s as routine as eating and sleeping, and periods of time when I forget that writing is something I do.
How did you begin writing poetry? Was there a specific inspiration or reason?
I began writing poetry intentionally when I began seeing a professional about my mental health. The poetry that most resonates with me has always been within range of lyrical to confessional, or poetry of the personal. I’ve always known that reading this sort of writing is equivalent to receiving a gift, but writing as an avenue of making sense of my own feelings and experiences was a more recent discovery. Effective poetry, if you are asking me, prompts even just a single reader to think I am so glad somebody else not only has felt this, but managed to put it into words. I think that everyone in the world has the power to save themselves and other people, even just a little bit, by opening up about what usually goes unspoken. Poetry provides an opportunity to do this. Poets who come to my mind in this moment as deserving of acknowledgement include: Edna St. Vincent Millay, Sylvia Plath, Langston Hughes, Nolan Natasha, Danez Smith, and Robert Bly.
In terms of poetic style or craft, is there a big question you are trying to find an answer for?
I prefer little questions to big ones. The one I ask most frequently is: do you feel this too?