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Tomas Q. Morin
Tomás Q. Morín is the winner of the 2012 APR/Honickman First Book Prize for his collection A Larger Country.
Recent Activity
Warm greetings, Rick! Thanks for stopping by and reading. I'm Mexican-American. What part of the country are you from?
26 letters just didn't seem like enough, you know? This week has been a lot of fun. I hope I return before too long :) Happy holidays!!!
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My first memory of the alphabet is seeing the letters—they were about the size of a mug—printed on one of those long pieces of posterboard that is meant to rest above the blackboard. I think there were apples and worms next to the letters, and the worms may have even had glasses. What fascinated me were the shapes of the letters, especially those that had tails facing this way or that. And I can’t forget the serious, attentive looking capitals standing next to the miniscules so that the whole picture looked like a silhouette of the Alps or a train... Continue reading
Posted Dec 21, 2012 at The Best American Poetry
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It was August and I was on my way to the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference for the first time. For some reason I don’t remember (bad weather, a loose screw), my plane from La Guardia to Vermont was grounded and I would have to stay the night in Flushing. While I was disappointed I was going to miss the C.K. Williams reading that night, what really bummed me out was the thought that the other writers also accepted as scholars would have their meet and greet, bond, and I would be the odd man out. It had been years since... Continue reading
Posted Dec 20, 2012 at The Best American Poetry
Hey Leslie, Nope, from what I can remember we received no pointers re: how to read. I do remember having the sense when I was a kid that I was a pretty good "vocalizer" of whatever we were reading in class. When I was really young I liked to read out loud because I loved the sounds of words, so I think that helped a lot. I like that pointer about reading under. Better to leave them wanting more than wanting to run!
The day before I was to have my teeth cleaned, I was telling my wife over the phone how the dentist’s office had said I would be free at 10:00 from their chamber of hooks and mouth vacuums and that ugly, cycloptic light with the orange bulb they crane over you. Because it sounded like I was saying 8:10 instead of “at 10:00,” what began as an ordinary comment quickly turned into a back and forth worthy of my beloved Abbott and Costello. I don’t recall mumbling my way through high school or college, though I was soft spoken, as... Continue reading
Posted Dec 19, 2012 at The Best American Poetry
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Sometimes I get nostalgic and think about my classmates from my MFA years and how I adored so many of the poems I had the privilege of reading in those workshops and how much they taught me and spurred me to try new things. There was the one poem by Rebecca Vano that was an autumn scene I think, and there might have been a stick, or was it a squirrel; I can’t remember now that ten years have passed but what I do remember is thinking that nature was alive in her poem like it is in the best... Continue reading
Posted Dec 18, 2012 at The Best American Poetry
I think poetry has given up that territory to fiction for far too long. I love seeing the look on the faces of undergraduates when I share with them the simple truth that they can make things up. What a revelation it is for them!
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When I was an undergraduate with limitless energy and cranking out poems left and right for my workshop classes, all I wrote about was my family. There were poems about everything from my grandfather’s hands to the years he spent working in a field. Even the paisley print of one of my grandmother’s shirts made it into a poem. As did my brother, mother and father, even a certain rude classmate whose name or face I can no longer remember made an appearance as a giant rat. Some of these poems, in spite of how poorly made they were, brought... Continue reading
Posted Dec 17, 2012 at The Best American Poetry
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Dec 15, 2012