Ask The Author: Kate Rutledge Jaffe

Kate Rutledge Jaffe’s wonderful Two Poems were in the June Issue.

1. Why are poets obsessed with collecting various things?

Some of us are hoarders – of words, images, animated gifs… Collections can have a near-sublime impact. And the act of collecting – not to mention the anguish of holding onto things in hopes of culling a poem – distresses even as it appeals. That said, a confession: I don’t collect tangible things, or I do so poorly. My friend’s grandmother found my lack of collections as reprehensible as my “debutante slouch.” So I faked it for her. As a result, I have twenty-two teacups.

2. How do you grieve?

Slowly, quietly, forever. Like a mantra, or the television through the walls, grief pulses in the background.

3. What have you quarantined lately?

Ubiquitous apologies; my dog when he had kennel cough; my cactus after I grabbed it — twice – with my bare hands; my mischievous hands (into your pockets, hands!). Sidebar: I once bought a pair of jeans at a thrift store only to discover the pockets had been cut out (a disturbing revelation). Possible upside? A pocket collection?

4. What have you beckoned to kill?

Let there be no mistake: I’m generally against killing things. But several years ago, a nest of mice spent weeks getting drunk in my closet on an old package of NyQuil. They were not long for this world. Other things worth beckoning to kill: germs, apple worms, darlings.

5. Which song by The Cure best resembles you?

On a good day, “Friday, I’m in Love” – the opening refrain makes me giddy, and also, love. On a sleep deprived day, “Lullaby” because I’m living in a spidery, chimeric sleep/dream/awake place.

6. What is the greatest promise you have broken?

I’ve been promising to get a driver’s license for thirteen years. As penance, I regularly dream about driving off an overpass and into the burning Puget Sound.