Tag Archives: Jessica Furiani

Behind the Sestina: Peter Davis on “Mustache Sestina”

Peter Davis writes, draws, and makes music in Muncie, Indiana. His books of poetry are TINA (Bloof Books, 2013), Poetry! Poetry! Poetry! (Bloof Books, 2010), and Hitler’s Mustache(Barnwood Press, 2006). He edited Poet’s Bookshelf: Contemporary Poets on Books That Shaped Their Art (2005) and co-edited a second volume, Poet’s Bookshelf II (2008). His poems have appeared in such places as Jacket, La Petite Zine, Court Green, Rattle, and The Best American Poetry. He lives with his lovely wife and two lovely children, and teaches at Ball State University.

In honor of “Movember,” we thought it was the perfect time to go Behind the Sestina with Davis and talk about his “Mustache Sestina,” featured in The Incredible Sestina Anthology.

When did you first discover the sestina?
Not sure exactly, but I never wrote one till I was getting my MFA. One of my teachers, a sestina lover, told me to write a sestina about August, or something like that. For some reason I don’t entirely understand, I thought it was a lot of fun.

Have you written sestinas before this one or since?
O yea. The book this comes from, Hitler’s Mustache, has 3 or 4 sestinas and for a while I toyed with the idea of writing a series of sestinas about the original Beverly Hills, 90210 TV show. I wrote one where all the end words were either “Dylan” or “Brenda,” and another with the end words, “Brandon,” “Brenda,” “Kelly,” “Donna,” “Dylan” and “Steve.” I’ve written many sestinas, most, obviously, are very forgettable.

Can you describe writing this sestina? Did the subject matter of the sestina have an impact on the form used, or did the form have an impact on what you were writing about?
As to the second question, yes and yes. Obviously, the image of Hitler’s mustache is, to me, one of mystery. It is a square box of darkness. And in that darkness is a whole host of mysteries. In short, one mystery after another. But there is a repetitive formality in that mustache (imagine all of those individual hairs laying down together like that! Unreal!) and the sestina seems capable of handling repetitive formality. As to the first question, I’m not sure I can, but I’ll try. I was thinking about words. I was thinking about mustaches. It happened pretty fast.

Most obvious question. Why Hitler? Then, mustaches. Why?
Because of the mystery. How is it that our face of evil in contemporary culture also is the ridiculous face of Hitler? How often is evil the face of a clown? How often, through a mustache, do we see the deep anomaly in human nature? How many questions can be asked about what motivated that square patch of hair? The intersection of fashion and fascism.

 The first sestinas were always dedicated to someone—who would you dedicate your sestina to?
I should probably dedicate everything I do to my wife, since she supports me and takes care of me, but that’s boring. The other obvious person would be Hitler, but that’s too obvious. So, I’d dedicate it to Julius Stricher, the only other really prominent Nazi who sported a Hitler mustache. He could have stood to hear some contemporary American poetry. It might have done him some good. So, For my wife, and Julius Stricher.

–Interview conducted by Jessica Furiani

Behind the Sestina: Casey Camp on “A Poem on the Severe Awesomeness of John Zorn”

CampCasey

Casey Camp is an artist, writer, and all-around fine gentleman. He loves to work at the intersection of poetry and visual art, typically within the bounds of sequential narrative art. Some people would just call this “comics.” When not crafting art, he can typically be found getting his fix in any matter of competition that he can find nearby. No contest is too big or too small. He lives near Atlanta, Georgia with his wonderful wife, Emily, and daughter, Lennon.

We went Behind the Sestina with Camp to talk about his poem, “A Poem on the Severe Awesomeness of John Zorn,” featured in The Incredible Sestina Anthology.

When did you first discover the sestina?
I first discovered it while doing some research.  I was working on translating some longer-form poems to comic form and I wanted to do something where I wrote the poem instead of finding one.  I wanted it to be interesting on a structural level to see how it translated to sequential panels.  After looking around online I found sestinas and that was that.  It was too interesting of a format to say no to.

Have you written sestinas before this one or since?
I wrote a few before this one just to get a feel for how it works. They weren’t anything great, but I made plenty of mistakes and eventually figured some things out.  Since then I’ve done some bigger comic sestinas that were set into an installation-type art piece.  They were kind of meta-sestinas, if there is such a thing.  Bigger pieces with shelves that held sestinas on them which, overall, created a larger pseudo-sestina.  Once I get into a form, it’s hard to let go.  They started showing up almost inadvertently in my art, even things that weren’t supposed to be poems.

“A Poem on the Severe Awesomeness of John Zorn” is a comics sestina. Can you tell us a bit about putting this graphic poem together? 
Usually, these sort of things would start out with the poem first, or even me coming up with a few lines of a poem, then going from there.  This one, however, happened to start with a doodle before anything else.  I had been playing around with putting a graphic poem together using visual cues as the last word of the lines (meaning it would have no words) and wanted to use a little figure.  Well, after a little drawing this figure wound up with a clarinet.  The words just kind of naturally came out after I’d figured out the big picture.

Putting it together was different just because on some pages I’d have an idea for a few panels, but the wording structure is so specific that on a very local level while working on a page the words are already set, so sometimes the challenge was to arrange the panels in a way that progressed the story how it was moving while still maintaining the flow and structure of the poem.  It sounds like a challenge, but it’s the most fun kind you can imagine.

Can you describe writing this sestina? Did the subject matter of the sestina have an impact on the form used, or did the form have an impact on what you were writing about?
Like I’d said earlier, I was really enamored with the form.  It has a lot of repetition, so I feel like once you have a general idea the next logical place to go would be to figure out what words you will be repeating since they’re such an important part of the piece.  In this case you can definitely say that the form impacted what I was going to do – I specifically wanted to write a sestina and specifically one about John Zorn.

casey camp

In terms of the specifics of writing this I was already listening to Naked City, one of Zorn’s bands.  For the entire duration of it’s creation I listened to different Zorn albums (specifically his solo work Chimeras, Cobra by Cobra, and several different Masada albums) and I’m not entirely sure what kind of influence they had on the final piece  In terms of creation, after the initial idea, the poem was written with the words and art being made one page at a time.  Basically I would do the words and a sketch for each panel, then finish the page before moving to the next.  I’d be willing to bet that as the piece progresses I was listening to heavier and noisier music of his which is what gives his figure this transformation from a timid kind of fellow to some sort of evil world conqueror.

Where did you first hear of Zorn? Why do you think he’s awesome?
I had a space in an art studio and there was a communal CD player that everyone just had stacks of CDs sitting next to.  A friend of mine at the studio brought in the Naked City album and got me to listen to it, saying it was some crazy experimental super group and it had the Batman theme song.  I had listened to Bill Frisell a good bit during college, so that’s how he convinced me to give it a whirl.

It blew my mind.

From then on I was hooked and started checking out a lot of the different people in the band to see what kind of music they made.  Once I started the John Zorn rabbit hole, nothing was ever the same.

The first sestinas were always dedicated to someone—who would you dedicate your sestina to? Would it be Zorn?
I feel like it would be in bad taste to dedicate it to anyone else!  I do not know Mr. Zorn, but I guess it’s okay to dedicate a poem to someone you’ve never met.  Especially when it’s someone so … awesome?!  I mean, those people bowing down at him in the end … that’s not exaggeration.  I just want to be on his good side so that when he takes over the world maybe I can be like 123rd in command or something.

–Interview conducted by Jessica Furiani

Behind the Sestina: Paula Bohince on “Allegory of the Leopard”

Paula Bohince is the author of two poetry collections, both from Sarabande: The Children (2012) and Incident at the Edge of Bayonet Woods (2008).

We go Behind the Sestina to talk to Bohince about her sestina “Allegory of the Leopard” included in The Incredible Sestina Anthology.

When did you first discover the sestina?
I read Elizabeth Bishop’s wonderful “Sestina” in college, and that was my introduction to the form.

Have you written sestinas before this one or since?
I have not.

Can you describe writing this sestina? 
I began this poem knowing that I wanted it to be a sestina, and I believe that I wrote the first stanza organically to see what end words would naturally arise. Those resulting words seemed “open” enough to allow the poem to move as athletically as sestinas must. Moving stanza to stanza was definitely a struggle, but a thrilling, pleasurable struggle. What I loved about writing this poem was that the pressure of the form forced me to wrestle with this subject for longer than I would have without the pattern, and I think that’s a useful lesson for writing any poem.


Leopards were companions to shamans in both western and eastern hemispheres, and are thought to be wise creatures. Is this why the animal spoke to you? Or perhaps to your primal instinct?
Because this poem has so much landscape imagery and abstractions (like spring, music, rebirth), I wanted a concrete creature—strange, fearsome, gorgeous—to stalk the stanzas. I like the leopard because it can both stand out and be camouflaged, in life and in a poem.

The first sestinas were always dedicated to someone—who would you dedicate your sestina to?
I’d dedicate it to Patrick Mullen.

–Interview conducted by Jessica Furiani