Stan Rogal lives and writes in Toronto along with his artist-partner and their pet jackabee. Work has appeared in numerous magazines and anthologies in Canada, the US and Europe. The author of several books and chapbooks (some with above/ground). His claim to fame? He once had drinks in a seedy Vancouver bar with Allan Ginsberg. Allan drank orange juice, Stan did not.
You can read missing (in)action in the October 2023 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?
To be perfectly blunt, for a short poem, there’s a lot going on. Christian Bök wrote a collection of poems titled “Crystallography” years ago where he proposed that language is a crystallization process. Visually on the page, my poem is meant to resemble a rock that’s been split open — a geode, perhaps — to reveal a poem plus an acrostic within the poem which, in turn, reveals (or hints at) a deeper clue to the process. I was working on a group of poems at the time where I turned the literary movement of OULIPO into the character of Ou Li Po, a Chinese poet, which led me to explore the short poem (or Haiku) form, though using postmodernist — and more specifically — conceptualist techniques: literary constraints, appropriation, self-reference, mixed discourse…, in order to allow a curious reader to make their own discoveries within the poem.
Why was the poetic form the best fit for this particular piece of work?
Poetry enabled me to mix genres and discourse in a condensed fashion while also providing a visual “hit” that other writing forms simply don’t allow.
Do you have a collection of poetry or even a single poem that acts as a touchstone?
I prefer to flip through anthologies or specific favourite magazines and cherry-pick along the way, knowing my taste will vary from day to day, moment to moment, as to what or who will provide inspiration or stimulus at the time.
If you didn’t write poetry, how do you think you might access the same fulfillments that poetry offers in your life?
I have a background as a playwright and I would definitely find some fulfillment there as it also provides a large range of forms, styles, and technical considerations. Plus, there’s the added advantage of working with actors and directors, which allows for instant feedback and revision.
How do you revise your work?
Painstakingly. Not as a bricklayer, but a bricoleur — using whatever materials that are on hand, arranging, re-arranging, setting aside, re-thinking, setting aside, stumbling onto new material, insert here, discard there… Basically, the epitome of eco-friendly: reduce, reuse, recycle.
What are you working on now?
A book of poems based on my readings of the Surrealists, especially those who existed in Canada.
How or where or with what does a poem begin?
Here, I have learned (or have tried to learn) to follow the dictum of Robert Creeley who said to allow each sentence to initiate the next sentence, rather than have the writer impose or force the poem toward some personal grand meaning or goal or epiphany. I’m paraphrasing, though my take home point is: be open to letting the poem surprise you, even take on a life of its own, otherwise, you might as well be “writing cement,” as Renata Adler so aptly put it.
Are there other art forms that inspire or inform your poetry?
Everything is fair game and grist for the mill, from movies to theatre to music to crappy TV and loose conversation picked up in bars or restaurants.
How do you make space for poetry in your daily routine?
I need to decide on a project. Once I’ve decided, I’m determined, so I make the time. When I’m not working on a project, I’m like anyone else, cleaning the bathroom, sweating over tax returns, making the mortgage payment, wondering what new hell awaits around the corner, finding inner peace over a glass of red wine or a walk in the park with the dog — or both now, simultaneously, since Toronto now allows drinking in most parks!
What are you reading or watching or listening to lately that intrigues or inspires you?
I just discovered the work of Joan Didion after watching her TV bio. Wow! Terrific writer. Also watched the movie versions of two of her novels, one with Ben Affleck that sucked, the other with Tuesday Weld which was lovely. And scary. Am now re-re-re-reading Italo Calvino’s “If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller.”
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?
I always refer to a couple of the old dead guys, Pound, who said, “Insist always on the verb,” and Bunting who said, “Fear adjectives, they bleed nouns. Hate the passive.” Of course, Bunting also said, “Always bring a corkscrew, the wine will provide itself,” which I also follow.
Do you belong to a writer’s group? If not, where do you find poetry community and feedback?
I don’t, no. Never have. I also never show my work until it’s published. Then, if I’m lucky, a few friends or relatives will read it. Again, if I’m lucky, one or two will reply with a comment or comments that are, in the main, positive. My partner is generally dependable for a hearty congratulations and a glowing report upon reading. Especially over a glass (or two) of wine. Let’s face it, as a rule, writing [poetry] is a lonely and materially unrewarding business.
In terms of poetic style or craft, is there a big question you are trying to find an answer for?
Not really. I’m just trying to practice my craft, have some fun doing it, meet a few kindred souls along the way, raise a glass, and am always tickled when a piece finds its way into a publication, so thanks for including a poem of mine in this issue.