H. L. Hix asked me a question about A Beautiful Name for a Girl on his blog site In Quire. I enjoyed answering. Here’s a little excerpt:
I love names: the singularity, the known-ness of being named. But it is also a terrible thing—to be named. One thing is not another; we insist on it, I think. So names are prisons. My reason for writing many of the poems in this book is to insist that one can be one thing and also be another. To show how these prison cells are membranous—possible to pass through. As in birth. As in death. As in coming home from work, or being needed, or the timetravel of a long train ride. We are capable of being other.