Ask the Author: P. Scott Cunningham

Read P. Scott’s poetry in the September issue and then listen in as we talk about sleeping with tiny lesbians, searching for the good in Miami and the Florida lit scene.

1. What would a poem about not concentrating for people who concentrate be like?

Any number of terrible poems I’ve written could be retitled this way.

2. How often do you sleep with tiny lesbians?

Not very often. My Tiny Lesbian Days are behind me now.

3. What have you done to find the good in Miami?  Would you care to share?

“Good Miami Hunting” would be a very short movie. Get in a fight, get thrown in jail. End credits. No matter how many math problems you solve on UM’s chalkboards, no professor is going to jump through the bureaucratic hoops required to bail you out of a Dade County jail.

But more to your question: I’m actually in New York City as I write this and I can honestly say I wouldn’t trade Miami’s weird uncouthness for the cultural pig-out of Brooklyn or Manhattan. Things feel very settled here, whereas in Miami we’re still figuring out how to go to museums and hold our forks, and I find that nascency is exciting.  I started a  fake university in order to host visiting poets and other writers, and it seems novel here, whereas in Prospect Heights alone, there are probably about thirty fake universities. I’m also  starting a city-wide poetry festival called “O, Miami” the goal of which is for every single person in Miami to encounter a poem during the month of April 2011. Would I do this in New York if given the chance? Of course! But I seriously doubt I’d ever get the chance. (The project is funded by the  John S. and James L. Knight Foundation by the way – thank you to them!) So that’s what Miami represents to me: opportunity. It’s like the New York of the 1700s.

4. How do you feel about Florida’s quality and strength within the national literature scene?

I think it’s stronger than people realize. We have an amazing independent book store, a huge  book fair, and the benefit of hosting Art Basel every December, which carries a fair bit of literature along with the maelstrom of objects. We’re also very international. A lot of the Haitian literati has settled here (Edwidge Danticat, Jan Mapou – who also owns a bookstore around the corner from my house), plus our Spanish language poetry scene has always been incredible (Ricardo Pau-Llosa, Angel Cuadra, et al).  Centro Cultural Espanol hosts events with European publishers that you’d otherwise have to go to Madrid to experience. What else? Between  The Sackner Archive and the Wolfsonian Museum, we easily have the largest collection of Lettrist, Italian Futurist, and concrete and visual poetry in the world.  Tigertail Productions and the University of Miami Portuguese Language Department both bring visiting Brazilian writers. Plus UM has just started a  Center for the Humanities that’s been bringing in visiting scholars. Then there’s people like Campbell McGrath, Denise Duhamel, Russell Banks, Chase Twitchell, John Dufresne, Carl Hiasson, and Neil de la Flor. And my friend  Patricia Engel, whose debut story collection “Vida” was reviewed by Michiko Kakutani. And  Jennine Capo Crucet, who is moving back from L.A. any day now. (Right Jennine?)

And did I mention  I’m starting a poetry festival?

5. How much of your life is in your poetry?

Not much, if by “life” you mean biographical information. My poetry tends to go from zero to maudlin fairly quickly if I resort to personal experience and memory. But I do think my personality, concerns, opinions, and mental processes are always present. Which is what I also believe to be the case with my favorite poets. Does it reveal things about me? I hope so. I also hope it contains real emotion, but I’m not interested at all in people understanding me via my poetry.

6. Are you o.k. with LeBron’s decision?

http://www.vimeo.com/15512040