JEREMY A. FLICK

Jeremy is native of Indianapolis, IN. He currently holds a Master's Degree in Creative Writing from Ball State University and is a MFA candidate at the University of Kentucky. Jeremy's poetry has been published in The Birds We Piled Loosely, The Broken Plate, and Pidgeonholes. He is the founder and Editor-in-Chief of Poetry Wolf Press.

All-Stars is Jeremy's second appearance in PASTEL.

You're a sessional presenter for the I Wanted to Also Ask About Ghosts podcast, produced through the University of Kentucky, talking all things writing. What are some of the ways conversing with a breadth of writers and students has inspired shifts in your attitudes and practices, as a poet?

Throughout my tenure interviewing and editing for I Wanted to Also Ask About Ghosts, I’ve been lucky to interview poets that write in different styles (and about different subjects) than myself. I think reading their work, as well as discussing their approach to poetry, has been an impactful aspect of interviewing. However, I find that the most interesting inspirations come from the non-traditional questions I ask (e.g. What is your go-to car jam?). To me, as a poet in an MFA program with a future in academia, we often view poetry as “high art” and humanizing writers (and their work) seems to make everyone in the studio feel more comfortable. It’s something that inspires me to be more open-minded in poetry as an art form.

From when or where did your drive to pursue poetry arise?

For me, poetry started in music. I began writing songs in sixth grade after a lifetime of listening to music and messing around with instruments. Songs have always been incredibly important to me—It was a way to connect with others or a way to deal with difficult life events. My song writing lead to very angsty teenage poetry, which is probably the inciting event for most poets, as it were. But my poetry was restricted to Tumblr and never really made it passed anonymity. That was until I was in a creative writing course my senior year of high school. I really found my love for writing in that classroom. Poetry was challenging and such an amazing way to unburden myself. Once I got to college and settled into my creative writing major, thoroughly studying poetry for the first time, and I realized that poetry was the only thing that made sense as a career.

You're also the founder and Editor-In-Chief to Poetry Wolf Press, a chapbook publication belt headlined by an intimate team of four creatives, assisting poets in your community with collating their work in gorgeous printed collections. Share with PASPals the conception story behind PWP, and where your focus currently lies as a publishing house.

The idea for Poetry Wolf originated after talking to a poet that was trying to publish a chapbook but wanted to maintain creative control. But when I really look back at its inception, PWP is essentially the child of a manic episode I had in January '18. I think that’s important, because I didn’t quite understand the time commitment and financial burden. Yet despite that oversight, I believed my idea was the greatest idea to happen to the poetry world. What’s better than a press that is a non-profit and donates any residuals to charity? I suppose my grandiose idea was a bit too grand for my current capabilities, but I do believe that it is still important to make sure poetry is supported in small, local communities. Thankfully Lauren (the first poet we published) was incredibly understanding and patient as I worked through the issues that come with starting from the ground up. Not only that, but the team is hardworking and genuinely passionate about poetry. There may be a few changes to PWP in the future, but our overall mission will always stay the same!

Editing, publishing, hosting and presenting, as just the entrée to a degustation of projects in progress, can be tough work. What are some of the challenges you've faced in being so prominently involved with a multitude of thriving projects?

Beyond my personal challenges, I often find each project is challenging in a different way. With the I Wanted To Also Ask About Ghosts podcast, they’re typically recorded within a week of the release—we release an issue of New Limestone Review and an episode of IWTAAAG every month—so being able to edit the podcast efficiently without a reduction in quality is a challenge. I’ve already discussed some challenges with Poetry Wolf, but another challenge is knowing what rejection feels like as a poet and trying to avoid rejecting manuscripts in a hands-off, form rejection way. But I think the ultimate challenge is reminding myself that, while each project deserves time, nothing is more important than taking the time I need for myself.

What might you not be so skilled at, as a poet and/or individual?

One of my faults in poetry specifically is reading poets that I don’t necessarily like. I often avoid writers I don’t relate to in style or subject matter, like Yeats or Dickinson. But I’ve found that I almost gain more reading those poets, because it makes me think about poetry outside of the box I put myself in. So maybe that’s my way of saying I’m not the best reader, but I’m really pushing myself to change that.

In PASTEL Issue #3, you made your debut with pieces 'Sestina' and 'Lure'. In the former, you approach North America's string of mass and school shootings with a mournful plea to lay down arms, and for governments to answer questions left partially or un-answered. What significance do you believe such a plea for national - or, global - reflection has for voters, when delivered as a piece of poetry?

Coming from a rural Midwestern state, I grew up around guns as utilities for hunting. Then there is the use for protection, which my father fully bought into after our house was burglarized when my sister was home alone. I don’t blame him for that decision, but I’m not sure it’s the answer to the problem. All that said, there are some major issues with the availability of firearms and if Americans could look beyond the 2nd Amendment and see that there are issues that need to be addressed, we would be on the right track.

Poetry is often a powerful and necessary voice during times of unrest. It may only reach a small audience initially, but some of the greatest protest poets from the past are revered as great today—a few examples being Langston Hughes and Allen Ginsberg. So, poetry may not necessarily have an immediate impact on voters that aren’t familiar with contemporary poetry, but it provides an invaluable perspective. I feel obligated to critique our current gun culture in America and hope that, no matter the means of influence, people begin to change their views.

Your All-Stars contribution 'X' retells a story of creation with a cosmic twist, seemingly making a promise of death’s inevitability in the final lines, as though mortality is a truth this newly birthed cosmos must face in the earliest moments of its conception. How might the theme of existence relate to this work?

There were a few things I wanted to include while writing this poem. First and foremost, as bland as this may be, it is a narrative poem based around my first experience with ecstasy (hence the name “X”). Secondly, growing up in the Christian church left me fascinated with God and religion and I wanted to explore my relationship as a human being with a higher power. Formally, it was an attempt to write an exciting “trip” poem, which can easily become cliché. I also wanted to play with form, as I don’t typically use white space in such an explicit way.

Narratively in this poem, God is rolling and forming a romantic relationship with the speaker. The idea of a romantic relationship with a higher power stems from a few things, such as consecrated virgins as spouses of Jesus (also see: “Indiana woman gets married to Jesus”) and wrestling with sexuality and its fluidity. Then God creates an entire galaxy from the pieces of the speaker which could be argued as an ultimate act of love. To try and comprehend the universe is as difficult to understand as the idea of God. Some inspirations come from the Bible, including Genesis 3:19, “…until you return to the ground,/ since from it you were taken;/ for dust you are/ and to dust you will return.”

But the ending, to me, signifies the lack of God’s presence when we need comfort the most. And there’s a bit of an introspection on imagination, per Wallace Stevens. To use the simile of the red star not only signifies death of oneself, but I thought it was tongue-in-cheek to compare a supernova with the lack of imagination. I really enjoy the interpretation of inevitable death, which I think goes hand in hand with the “death” of faith and imagination.

The easiest way to find Jeremy's other work is via his website jeremyaflick.com/publications

To enjoy Jeremy's All-Stars contribution, pick up a copy of PASTEL Magazine All-Stars at pastelthemagazine.bigcartel.com