“Cross-Pollination grows the way a tree might, one ring slowly expanding into the next, one line seeding its way into a sapling, sapling to oak, words branching and orbiting outwards into worlds until you’ve reached the edges of the cosmos. Allen Grossman said ‘A poem is about something in the way a cat is about the house’ and these poems are about trees in that way, even as the house is full of conflict, violence, family, fertility, aging, and death.”
Monica Kaiser is the author of Still Sifting (1996, Mellen Poetry Press). A poet & tree hugger, Kaiser has lived in Eger, Hungary, Aachen, Germany, & in New York City. She received her BA from Kent State University & a Master of Fine Arts from Kent State University. She was awarded a Juniper Summer Writing Institute fellowship in 2019.
Her favorite meal would be a plate of sliced summer tomatoes with a shake of salt & pepper, a splash of olive oil, & two or three brötchen to sop up the deliciousness.
No nightstand. What is next to my bed on the floor? I’ve too many books to name, but here are a few:
Ryka Aoki’s Why Dust Should Never Settle Upon This Soul; Melissa Dickey’s Dragons; Rita Dove’s American Smooth; Brenda Hillman’s Practical Water; Li-Young Lee’s Book of My Nights; Maj Ragain’s Clouds Pile up in the North: New & Selected Poems; and several poems I am workshopping for my colleagues.
I write best outdoors, while walking or while sitting at a picnic table in the park. I take my notes and poem them at home.