
Stan Rogal lives and writes in Toronto. His work has appeared in numerous magazines and anthologies in Canada, the US, Europe, and Asia. The author of 27 books, including 12 poetry, plus several chapbooks. A 13th collection will be published in 2025 with ecw press. He is a neo-Luddite and frequent tilter at windmills.
You can read Borderblur in the April 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?
It seems that I’ve been writing a series of poems over the years, almost Ovidian, where the natural world and the human world are in constant flux, blending and transforming, merging and emerging, one thing into the other.
Why was the poetic form the best fit for this particular piece of work?
Mainly, poetry allows for the images to do most of the talking, without nailing down a specific narrative or meaning.
Do you have a collection of poetry or even a single poem that acts as a touchstone?
The Norton Anthology of Postmodern American Poetry. It provides a nice mix.
If you didn’t write poetry, how do you think you might access the same fulfillments that poetry offers in your life?
Drugs and alcohol, I suppose, as each provides escape from the usual day-to-day horrors of front-page news.
How do you revise your work?
Painstakingly, working on the word order first, then concentrating on the music or rhythmical flow.
As a poet, what does creative success or achievement look like for you?
Publish or perish. Writing is an otherwise lonely and monetarily unprofitable pursuit.
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?
I like using discourse that is often considered non- or a-poetic, and attempting to bend this discourse to suit the poetic form.
What are you working on now?
A collection of poems that combines spoken word with some songwriting techniques, with a tip of the hat to Brecht/Weill and their operatic songspiels.
How or where or with what does a poem begin?
Most recently, I’ve tried to begin with any line that jumps out at me, and allow it dictate where the poem wants to go, a la Robert Creeley. I used to think of my writing as collagist in nature, though I’ve discovered it also fits under the category “conceptualist poetry.”
Are there other art forms that inspire or inform your poetry?
Music, for sure. My latest collection coming out in April is titled …more songs the radio won’t play… and was inspired by Canadian singer/songwriter Kathleen Edwards’ tune “One More Song the Radio Won’t Like.”
How do you make space for poetry in your daily routine?
Sheer willpower. Plus, at my age, I’ve painted myself into a corner and don’t know what else to do.
In terms of poetic style or craft, is there a big question you are trying to find an answer for?
As I have a background in philosophy, I submit to the notion that a philosopher’s job isn’t to supply answers, only to ask better questions.