Where did the idea come from for the book?
I felt sick outrage when I learned about the enormous gyres of plastic floating in both the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans. I didn’t know that no plastic ever created has disappeared. Plastic just gets smaller and smaller, until the tiniest fish are ingesting bits of plastic, all of over the world.
And then there’s the disease killing bats as they hibernate in their caves, and species after species of frogs are disappearing every day, and whole beehives are simply disappearing.
And then there was my everyday life with my love and our apartment in Brooklyn and all the grit and all the shine of the city. And how I traveled the subways and interacted with so many people, and how both the travel and the interactions took me along the surface and also took me deep down.
I started thinking about what disappears and how. And what appears and how. And what stays but shifts.
And in April, postcards disappeared into the post office’s blue maws, and then appeared in mailboxes across the country, scrawled with poems (thanks to the Kundiman community and our postcard poetry habit).
In all of that, there were always poems. And from the poems, somehow, a book.