This poem is for Kelly. She had her artwork up in one of the galleries during last night’s art walk, and asked me to create a poem that might serve as a title for one of her pieces.
I remember feeling strange, to be in the town but not of the town. I came across Shaughnessy’s Our Andromeda while quietly stacking inventory for Princeton students in need of textbooks. She was a local poet, working with the Princeton MFA’s Emerging Writers series and teaching at Rutgers. Now, returning back to the east coast, to New Jersey, to Newark–it seemed like the perfect time to read Shaughnessy’s newest poetry book, So Much Synth, during the five hour flight from Los Angeles.