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POETRY FOUNDATION

How a Poem Happens: “Emptying Town” (2008)

When was this poem composed? How did it start?

Nick Flynn: It was begun sometime in the early 1990s, when I was a fellow at the
Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown. It was the first full winter I spent in that
town, which can get pretty desolate, wonderfully desolate, strangely empty, by
February.

How many revisions did this poem undergo? How much time elapsed between
the first and final drafts?

NF: Its hard for me to say at this point, but I usually go through many revisions,
especially with a poem such as this, which is basically a collage of three different
failed poems.

Do you believe in inspiration? How much of this poem was “received” and how
much was the result of sweat and tears?

NF: I think there is such a thing as inspiration, yet without the work it wonʼt come
to much, except in very rare instances, the occasional gift. I try to maintain the
initial spark in a poem, and then build a structure around it, if thatʼs what is called
for.

How did this poem arrive at its final form? Did you consciously employ any
principles of technique?

NF: I use a collage technique, the principles of which had to be found (unlike,
say, a given form, like a sonnet).

How long after you finished this poem did it first appear in print?

NF: I donʼt remember.

How long do you let a poem “sit” before you send it off into the world? Do you
have any rules about this or does your practice vary with every poem?

NF: Usually Iʼd never send anything out for at least a year, just to make sure it
had actually found its final form—found itself.

Could you talk about fact and fiction and how this poem negotiates the two?
NF: Its all based on actual incidents from my life at that time, some of which took
place in the “real” world, some of which took place inside of me. I hate to break it
apart, but here goes: It begins with an evocation of a scene, then moves into a
retelling of a troubled friend (heʼd probably thought I was the troubled one) who
tried to convert me to Jesus, then ends with a meditation on a central tenet of
Christianity, that of sacrifice being equated with love. If my friend hadnʼt left all
those images of Jesus around my house, with him pointing at his heart, which
made their way into the deep caves of my subconscious, connecting to other
violent images from my life, the poem likely wouldnʼt have found me.

Was this poem always in the form of a letter from a friend to the poet, or did it
begin in some other incarnation?

NF: Is it a letter?

Is this a narrative poem?

NF: It has narrative flashes.

Do you remember who you were reading when you wrote this poem? Any
influences youʼd care to disclose?

NF: The title, of course, comes from Richard Hugoʼs great book, Triggering
Town.

Do you have any particular audience in mind when you write, an ideal reader?

NF: I try not to think of any reader until fairly late in the game, but I would like my
friends who wouldnʼt necessarily consider themselves poets, though every word
they utter is poetry, to be able to enter into my work.

Did you let anyone see drafts of this poem before you finished it? Is there an
individual or a group of individuals with whom you regularly share work?

NF: I was part of a writing group for years, which was amazingly helpful. I donʼt
think anything gets created by one individual.

How does this poem differ from other poems of yours?

NF: the ending is almost didactic, which isnʼt something Iʼm usually comfortable
with.

What is American about this poem?


NF: American? I donʼt know, the scene it evokes might happen anywhere, yet it
did happen in a particular place, which was America, which was the threshold
into my subconscious, at that moment.

Was this poem finished or abandoned?

Nf: I think it found itself, by the end.

NOTE: Some questions have been adapted from Fifty Contemporary Poets: The
Creative Process, edited by Alberta T. Turner (White Plains, N.Y.: Longman,
1977).

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