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Feb. 7, 2024

Quintessential Listening Poetry Online Radio-YouTube Presents Margaret R. Sáraco

Quintessential Listening Poetry Online Radio-YouTube Presents Margaret R. Sáraco

A Different Kind of Poetry Broadcast

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Quintessential Listening Poetry Online Radio and YouTube

Margaret R. Sáraco is a storyteller writing at the intersection of poetry, fiction, and memoir. Her writing appears in anthologies and literary journals including Paterson Literary Review, Exit 13, The Path Literary Magazine, Book of Matches, Greening the Earth (Penguin Books), Lips, and Kerning: A Space for Words. She is a poetry editor for the Platform Review, has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and twice recognized in the Allen Ginsberg Poetry Contest. Margaret has recorded video poems for Poetry of Protest and Struggle, Writing the Land, and Poets Wear Prada, performs spoken word and leads writing workshops. Margaret also taught middle school students in math and writing for 27 years and recently retired in June 2022. She published her debut poetry collection If There Is No Wind in September 2022, and Even the Dog Was Quiet, thirteen months later in October 2023, both with Human Error Publishing. She lives in Montclair, NJ with her husband Alex, who did the illustrations for her latest book. Amazon.com: Even the Dog Was Quiet: 9781948521185: Sáraco, Margaret R.: Books www.qlporyt.com

Thank you for listening to Quintessential Listening Poetry Online Radio and YouTube. If you enjoyed this episode, please consider subscribing to our podcast on your preferred platform to stay updated on new episodes. You can also leave a review on our podcast to help us improve our content and reach more listeners. Follow us on social media platforms like Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook to stay connected with us and join our community of poetry lovers. Finally, if you’re a poet or spoken word artist and would like to showcase your work on the podcast, please contact the host, Dr. Michael Anthony Ingram, at maingram@gmx.com. Thank you for your support and we look forward to sharing more poetry with you soon!

Transcript

Margaret R. Sáraco

[00:00:00] Log Talk Radio. Welcome to the quintessential listening, poetry online radio and YouTube podcast streamed live from the heart of Washington DC. Here, you'll find a portal to vibrant voices, echoing souls, and an ongoing celebration operation of the extraordinary power of language. So prepare yourself to join host, doctor Michael Anthony Ingram and his special guests as they explore traditional and spoken word forms of poetry. Alright.

Thank you. Thank you very much. Welcome to quintessential listening poetry online radio and YouTube, and my very special guest tonight is Margaret r Saraco. Margaret is an extraordinary [00:01:00] storyteller, writer, and poet whose work spans poetry, fiction, and memoir. Her pieces have been featured in various anthologies and literary journals, and she has served the poetry editor for the platform review.

Margaret's contributions extend beyond writing. She also taught middle school for 27 years, retiring in 2022. She has published 2 poetry collections with Human Error Publishing and lives in Montclair, New Jersey with her husband, Alex, who illustrated her latest work, Even the dog was quiet. Margie, welcome back to the program. Thank you, Micah.

I'm so thrilled to be here. And thank you for doing this podcast. It's just so amazing that you do this. Well, like I said, you are my favorite people, 1 of my favorite authors. I enjoy working with you, and I want to find out more about your latest work.

Even the dog was quiet. [00:02:00] Alright? Let's begin this journey. What inspired you to write this book? So, um, I think about The the kind of poetry that I love always pulls me in a little bit, and then it makes me look and reflect back at my own life.

So I started to gather some of my own work because I have hundreds of poems that are still in process, but it's they're all, you know, In on on my computer in my life that have, uh, that I can be gleaned from. You know, I can grab them in. And I started to look for poems that caught me looking. Um, and I discovered along the way that It was starting to form like a memoir in in a poetic form. So, Um, I decided to gather those moments and start to put them together.

And it's, of course, it's a [00:03:00] process as you know. Uh, what I started is not what I ended up with, but I kept looking for something that was almost just holding back a moment, and I felt like I could get underneath a little bit more. And, yeah, that's how I started to to put pull this work together. So you were looking for a moment. Tell me more about that.

Stretch that out for me just a bit more. So in the even the there's a poem called risk, Which the the line in the poem even the dog was quiet comes from, and I'll read it later tonight. It it really when I when I read this poem, it's all of the stuff is going on, And then it kinda makes me, like, weak in the knees to think about where I was when I wrote that poem. It was a it was risk, And it was, uh, dangerous for me, and it was interesting because even I read it now after I've written it and I Worked on [00:04:00] it. I get to the line.

Even the dog was quiet. And I I I still can feel a little bit weak and light headed from it, you know, Because it's really about, um, you know, we kinda walk through our lives, and we you never know. Like, I always wake up thinking, well, what will the day bring? You never know how you'll be detoured or if you stay on your path Work will just be kind of a normal day or what will change. And I think as a poet and a writer, I'm always looking for that.

And so a a lot of these work in this Collection, and some of it is funny, and some of it is quite serious, and some of it is sad and encompasses a lot of grief. But there are those moments when I just wanna hold on to. It's almost like a hushed overtone that, um, that I saw in this collection. Is there an existential bit Overarching the entire book in terms of thinking about life? Ah, that's a good [00:05:00] question.

Everything. So for me, um, I've always felt that I noticed is a very common thing that a life reach not not reflected upon is not worth living. So I'm always trying to Go a little deeper and very spiritual. I have a lot of spiritual parts of myself that end up in my writing. So I'm always thinking about that.

I'm always thinking about that on 2 different levels, especially with the existential piece about, Like, almost looking at my life from a different perspective. Isn't that what we get to do as writers, really, is that we we can kinda look at it from a different place in a different time and say, oh, that's interesting. Look where I was back then and look where I am now. I think that's where Right. I think that's where it was going.

Right. Even the dog was tired. When I first Got it. Saw the [00:06:00] title, I was like, wow. What is that dog going through?

What is he saying? Tell me about the title. The title. So, um, The short story behind the poem risk that it comes from Mhmm. Is that my my friend and I, Katie, were driving to Boulder, Colorado, I think it was 19 91, in a Chevy Chevette, and I was certainly running away from my problems in my life in my young life that I had already encountered.

And Katie had her dog with her. And he was like, uh, he was a he was a mutt. You know, Katie, um, dog's name is Gretchen. Gretchen was great. Um, so there were 3 of us stuffed into this little Chevette on a very strange adventure driving from New York to Colorado.

And, um, I guess you could say that the title, even the dog was quiet, comes from the bad feeling I had taking this risk. I knew it Was not a great idea what we were doing, but I [00:07:00] didn't know how to get out of it at the time we were when we made the phone call to the folks in Denver who we didn't know, um, and asked if we could just stay with them because we didn't know anybody else. It was a friend of a friend, which is in the pub. Um, it was it was weird. And we didn't know if we were gonna be okay or not.

Um, but, you know, risks can be good for the swollen spirit. Many That and not so great. So this the comes from that. So the the it's supposed to encompass the combination of both the good and the bad experiences from those kinds of, um, yeah, experiences. So the cover itself, tell me about the design.

How is the cover created? So oh, so that was pretty cool. So my husband, Alex

Palmer, is an artist. And if anybody's in this in the New Jersey area, he has a Show at the gallon gallery at the JCC Metro West, [00:08:00] um, that's going on now until February 20 fifth. I'm sorry.

A little That little public service announcement there. Yes. The cover is actually called the the cover is actually called The Crossing. Um, it it's a pastel drawing or painting, he likes to say. So he's an, uh, he does, uh, pen and ink.

He does, Drawing, painting, uh, he's amazing. Um, and I knew I wanted him to do this cover. My daughter did the cover for my first book, but we he and I have been talking about, like, what we wanted to do. And he started to draw this a

telephone booth, Uh, which is in the home risk. I'm at a telephone calling, and it wasn't working for some reason.

And he pulled this out, and he said, what about this? And we and there was something about the colors that I really loved, um, because they're muted, um, and there's lots of them, but the crossing is at a railroad at the railroad tracks.

And there's something about, uh, railroad [00:09:00] tracks that I also find to be very intriguing. I love to travel, so I love them for that. But over the years, I've known many souls have their lives crossing them.

You know? So there's this weird thing that can be very exciting. They can be very dangerous. And even when we were teaching our children to drive stick shift, I would I would rarely take them over the train tracks because I was terrified they were gonna Go out. So it's you know, regarding the I understand.

Right? I know those names. Yeah. Right? So and they yeah.

I know. So, you know, it it really fit because it gave you that that double piece again. You know, like, because it feels abandoned and not. It feels kinda eerie and not, and that's what I wanted. I wanted the 2 pieces of that.

So Alex did that cover, and he also did 8, um, drawings inside the book to separate it out as well. So we did, um, all of that, but it was [00:10:00] it when I when we looked at it together, we went, wow. This is it. You know? So he reads all my work as well.

You know? So He was very familiar with what I was trying to create, which is really helpful when you're trying to do a cover. Do it with somebody that knows your work. Yes. True.

So. And here here's 1 short story for you. When I was 16 Yeah. Go ahead. And my dad was teaching me how to drive, He had a blue Lincoln Continental, and we were crossing down the railroad tracks.

And somehow I stabbed in the little ditch on the track. Oh my god. Our relationship never recovered. Our relationship never recovered, and I'm 60 years old. So that was trigger trauma when you brought that up.

Tell your husband that that was trigger trauma. Alright? Listen to him because he knows. Oh my god. That's [00:11:00] We worked it out.

We worked it out. But Oh my god. Oh my god. That's saving. Let me calm down.

Yeah. Alright. That was a flashback, but not a good 1. Michael. Right?

Back to the book. So when you think about the predominant themes that you write about and you talked about some, flesh that out for us too. If there are 3 things that you view as being Predominant over predominant is you'd like us to know about. So I think that the theme that you know, it's funny. I don't really Think about it.

I I I work more viscerally, I guess, as I'm putting it together. Yes. But, uh, for me, when I look back at it, it's Family, love, and personal growth. And how do they not interact? Right?

Isn't it all the same piece? Um, I think it is. Um, so the stories are unique, um, and I'm hoping that they, like, resonate with the readers that they can find themselves in that as well, you know, but I [00:12:00] think those are the 3

themes. Um, it just keep popping up, you know, and if and if it is memoir based, it also makes sense that it would be love, family, and personal growth. Right?

Yeah. So I think those are my 2 things. Very nice. Margaret, let's hear some of your work. Oh, sure.

So, um, The first poem and I I try to do it mostly in order in the book so you could get a feeling of the the growth, the literally growing up. First 1 is called cookies. My feet dangle from the chair. The doctor's office is cold. I stare at my reflection in the shiny metal table legs.

Walk again from watch. She requires cookies in her shoes. I like cookies, but in my shoes, I cover my mouth, shut my smile back inside. Comma isn't like them, stares at my feet. We [00:13:00] drive from the office.

Are we going home? No. You need cookies. I can taste cookies, dripping chocolate icing, And we passed the hospital, high school, the Martin Luther's movie theater, courthouse, and piano store. We pull up to the curb.

I look out the car window. Buster Brown? Is that the bakery? Holding hands, we go in. It's filled with brown and black shoes that smell like grandma's old leather bag left out in the rain.

I squeeze my nose. A shoe man says hello. Mama explains about the cookies. Oh, you have flat feet, he says. Mama winces like someone pinched her.

The man put something inside the shoes. I wiggle my toes and try to take them off. Mama says stop. The ugly black shoes with laces on my feet look like daddy's work boots, and they hurt. The man says, walk from here to the [00:14:00] door.

I breathe in my mama's ear, inhale her gardenia perfume. I don't want those shoes. I want Mary Jane's. I point to shiny black pat mother pair with a strap, the kind my friend Sandy wears to church. Mama tells the man, we'll take the ones with the cookies.

Mama frowns when he rings up the shoes. Smiling, he puts them in a box and hands them to me. I look at my feet. I won't take it. She says I will have to wear them, runs her fingers through my hair.

My eyes sting. My head hurts. My face is burning. I climb in the back seat of the car, lie down, Curl my toes under until my feet hurt and pretend to sleep. Mama wakes me up, opens the car door, and I smell it before I see it.

She takes my hand. I want the round ones, I tell her, with jam inside and sprinkles on the outside. Skipping to the bakery, [00:15:00] my feet barely touch the ground. So the next 1 is called, uh, Young Apprentice, and I was about a little older, about the same age. At 7, I stretch wool for my aunt, feeding sitting on a wooden stool in front of her.

She places a twisted skein over my hand, 12 inches apart, arranges my body to keep the yarn taught. I learned 2 stitches, knit and pearl, enough to make ugly warm scarves and blankets. The itchy will irritates my hands, but then I look at my smiling aunt and ignore my discomfort. My aunt knits and crochets. Her fingers form a language, blurring yarn into fantastic designs.

When I leave, we arrange the wool on top of her spec wooden box with 2 spokes and run all the way home, curious [00:16:00] Why my aunt needed me to hold the yarn if she could attach it to her box. At home, I sit by my mother and her Singer machine, Attach my yarn to an upside down chair. The needles are too large for my tiny hands. I yank out knots while my mother reaches to help, laughs at my entanglement. My aunt and grandmother Teach me patience 1 loop at a time.

Mom prefers the speed of her machine, but spends hours Sewing, ripping, remaking garments until almost perfect. When I hear of another friend diagnosed with cancer, I have an urge to buy colorful yarn and knitting needles. Find someone to hold the yarn so I can unravel it slowly, carefully undoing knots, creating something, anything, 1 loop at a time. And the, [00:17:00] um, the third 1 in this set, Michael, is risk. And this is where the title of this, uh, collection comes from.

I told the guy who answered the phone all those years ago, we were 30 minutes outside Denver, Needed a place to stay for the night, maybe longer. The rest area pay phone was cleaner than the ones back east. There was no scent of urine, and the plastic booth wasn't scratched with someone's initials and lopsided hearts of misbegotten lovers. I wiped the mouthpiece with a tissue even though it smelled like cleanser. I preferred the earthy odor of people's germs.

The guy that answered the phone was a friend of a friend. I called him John. He said his name was Radar with a New York accent. John with his roommate said come by. You can sleep in the basement.

I didn't mention the dog and hung up the phone. Katie and I stood by my 77 [00:18:00] Brown Chevette deciding if we should do this or not. 2 20 year olds driving for 24 hours calling strangers from the road. Why were we here? Even the dog was quiet.

Thank you, Michael. That's that first step. Wow. Even the dog was quiet. Beautiful.

Love that. Mhmm. I'd like you to choose 1 of those 3 poems to share again, if you don't mind. I left him in place. Okay.

I'll reread risk. Risk. I told the guy who answered the phone all those years ago, we were 30 minutes outside Denver the night, maybe longer. The rest area pay phone was cleaner than the ones back east. There was no scent of urine, and the plastic booth wasn't scratched with someone's initials and lopsided hearts of misbegotten lovers.

I wiped the mouthpiece with a [00:19:00] tissue even though it smelled like cleanser. I prefer the earthy odor of people's germs. The guy that answered the phone was a friend of a friend. I called him John. He said his name was Radar with a New York accent.

John was his roommate. Yeah. He said come by. You can sleep in the basement. I didn't mention the dog and hung up the phone.

Katie and I stood by my 77 Brown Chevette deciding if we should do this or not. 2 20 year olds driving for 24 hours calling strangers from the road. Why were we here? Even the dog was quiet. That's it.

That's all. Punch. Well, it packs a packs a punch the first time and the second time even more so. So when you think about that particular poem, which lines do you feel most proud of writing, Or which lines do you feel challenged you the most while writing? [00:20:00] Interesting.

I think that, um, I absolutely love the description of the pay phone, uh, because I was used to, you know, New York City pay phones. And, um, this 1 was cleaner, and it didn't feel right. You know? Um, I always love the I like that line too. It's true.

Right? Like, I know. Right? Um, it's, uh, you know, I I grew up on Long Island, but I spent a lot of time in New York City, and I wasn't using payphones on Long Island. The only ones I knew were in the city, so this was weird.

Um, and it's I think that lopsided hearts of misbegotten lovers. I always loved that phrase. Mhmm. But it it went through the the poem went through a lot of iterations. Um, it was hard probably some of these phones in here I've been working on for years.

You know? So I I like that it came out Short and really moved through the story with that undercurrent of how Scared we were, you know, about what [00:21:00] we were doing. And, you know, we weren't even saying anything. We were exhausted. Oh, understandable.

Understandable. So so during this selection process, as you said, I'm sure there are many poems that you had to choose from, how did you decide which pawns to to put into the book? What got in? What didn't Um, well, you know, that's I think, um, as I was reading through my work, and I just mentioned that Some have been written years ago, much some were much more recent. Um, I saw that they were telling a story.

I found that certain ones were telling a very particular story. So I started to follow that story line Mhmm. Like if I was writing a memoir. I do write a little bit of memoir pieces, and, um, I I like that, uh, form. And I started to think, well, maybe that's where I'm going.

Um, even when I was compiling [00:22:00] my last book, I I read each poem to see if there were connections between the pieces, And I started to place them together until it made sense or didn't. Um, you know, it's it's funny. I just I have so much work, it actually makes it harder to do something like this. So then once I came up with a list, I showed it to my my daughter, Eliza, my then Cody and my husband, Alex, because they're like and then my other writer friends, who also I've been working with some of them for years, and said, like, what Do you think works here? Is this working?

And since they know my work so well, they say, no. No. Put in this piece. Take out that 1. And we started to play this, like, little game with it.

Yeah. Of course, I've got author's chair, so I get to make the last decision. And then I sent it out when I thought I was really good. And, of course, I work with my publisher, Paul, um, Richmond, who's been on this show, um, at Human Error Publishing. And he's, uh, he's great.

Like, he says he's not [00:23:00] gonna, you know, say anything 1 way or another, and then he says, yeah. No. No. Not yeah. He gives you the advice exactly what I want.

You know what? I think I like collaborating. So, you know, I love that part. Um, and we have a great working relationship, So I can really ask him, and he'll tell me exactly what he thinks. That's who Paul is.

So I love that. So that's that's how I did it. And until it felt like it worked, I I think I really do work quite distilling, so I I go for feeling. And, you know, gosh, how many times can you read your own book over and over and over again? I did it many multiple times, Dozens of times, probably hundreds of times until it felt right.

Wow. So That's right. Oh. That's right. So is it divided is the book divided into sections?

I mean, uh, 1 It is. And the reason I did that yeah. It's, um, I haven't done something like that before. Uh, but I I really wanted to [00:24:00] include some of Alex's, uh, drawings inside the book because he's so good and and it, like, I I

love that Partnering of visual and written art forms. Um, so started to I actually wrote some very small poems or I had some.

Both were true. And I wanted to break up the book because Paul and I always talk about How there has to be some air in the book as well that you can't just have, like, so many words and so much and so much. You gotta give people a chance to breathe. Um, and so I thought, well, what if we break it up with a a

drawing, A small palm and then continuous section. And, um, since I was kind of doing it, like, I I may I did make a jump there.

I went from 6 or 7 to I think I was 21 when I drove out to Colorado. Mhmm. I still in the book, I'm doing it pretty much by age. So I'm I'm going in these, like, chunks. So [00:25:00] I I created those.

You know, sometimes it was pretty seamless and sometimes it was a little bit more difficult. But Alex's work, uh, he he did the same thing. He pulled some of his drawings and then he created some of his drawings, so we worked a lot on that. But, you know, we've worked artistically together for many years, so it was it was great to work together on this. So yeah.

You know? Pretty fun. I'm thinking I'm thinking, you know, Providing the reader air to breathe. Let me ask this question. Did you want the readers to breathe, Or did you want them to experience what you experienced where it may have been that you didn't have room to breathe?

This is That's a good question. We're good at this. Uh, I'm not really getting loud. You know, I Hey, Monk. Yeah.

What's up, mate? Oh my gosh. You know, it's, um, I do [00:26:00] a lot of yoga too, and I do a lot of meditation. So breath is actually very important in my life. And so, yes, you're right.

I want people to catch their breath and somehow, like, that kind of a feeling in some of the work. But if you don't find the spaces in between the to to find your breath, then it's hard to move forward. And I I I read a lot. I read a lot of poetry, um, of course. And sometimes, like, what people are writing are is very intense, And I have to put the book down and say I have to give myself a minute to make sure that I can come back into it.

And I do, you know, especially for poets. I will always do that. But I wanted and somewhere in me, I wanted that experience that if someone wanted to read my book From the beginning to the end, they would be able to do that without having to put the book down. I think that's what I was going for. [00:27:00]

Wow.

You know, like you, I Wow. I I practice meditation. I'm in a I've been in a class for the last 4 or 5 years. And Prior to every episode, I take a number of deep breaths just to to center myself so that I can be ready for what's going to happen because it's live, and you never know. Oh, wow.

Yeah. Yeah. Margaret, as you know, this is a call in show, and there's someone on the line Who may have a question for you. Are you ready? I'm ready.

Alright. The first 3 numbers are 9 1 7. You're on the air with Margaret. Good evening. Hello?

Good evening. Hello? 9 1 7. Yes. You're on the air.[00:28:00] 

There's a lot of laughing right now. Well Well, that was a nice stop. Oh my god. Just like a rest stop. Yeah.

Just a couple of seconds and you're back on the road. Alright, Brooke. Alright. Alright. Please?

Yeah. That's on the road. On the road again. On the road again. That's right.

Please share another set from your book. Okay. Alright. So, um, they're gonna read 2 pieces, um, in here. The first 1 is rather short, and the second 1 is rather long.

I don't usually read it because it's longer. So since we have time, um, I will read it. The first 1 is called between the sheets. We find each other between the sheets. He is 35.

I am 17. Not quite boyfriend and girlfriend. I am his relief, a body to caress, explore, envelop While he downs vodka, rye, [00:29:00] numbs veteran pain. We make love and shadow through Hendricks, Credence and Cream. Vibrations electrify our bodies.

Rhythms intensify our act. Eyes shut. Nightmares return. He forgets me. Hold dispirited memories beneath lap lines.

Slow, careful waiting like a good soldier. Can I be trusted? He speaks to me back in the jungle, The sound of rain, helicopters, gunfire, sight of fires, dead bodies, American and Viet Cong rest Rifles by their side, pass with bottles of whiskey, play cards before dawn breaks, Climb out of holes just 2 in the jungle, guns leveled, set to kill, lower weapons walk away. His words fall on our [00:30:00] bed, gray shards now next to my inexperienced and young body, mournful and scared. I rock him in my arms.

He gets up, quietly pours drinks, lights joints and cigarettes, strokes my hair. I drift off to sleep as he whispers in my ear, promising to keep watch. And the next 1 actually occurs in the book before this 1. I You guys are about 17. Uh, it's called less than nothing.

My first day on the job, we've had time cards before sunrise, Sit at industrial tables cleared of dust and examine X-ray film for defects on large viewers in a darkroom. Rosalie, my seatmate in her thirties, carries a conventional name for an old fashioned gal, But swears artfully in her don't [00:31:00] fuck with me Long Island Calabrese. She plunked herself down at her workstation, Removed her jacket, then her shirt, short, flowery sandals, and whispers, no 1 can see me. My eyes are deaf. She is not invisible.

I see her sagging, plump body and sun starved skin. She tells me to take my clothes off. I laugh then decline. I look around the factory floor. Some undo a button, roll up sleeves, tie shirt tails at the waist, remove shoes, their ghostly complexions reflecting chemicals they inhale 40 hours a week, 52 weeks a year.

Minutes creep by, breathing labored as body shift on squeaky steel chairs with padded seats scanning for scratches on film. Slowly, I slip into monotony along with dozens of women. Eyes burn, [00:32:00] back screams, and body cries for light as I remove my sandals, just my sandals, Sit cross legged on the cold industrial chair. My second day on the job, Eddie, the manager hired to walk girl on my table. I'm proud to be Irish guy with sandy hair and mustache dash that blends with his institution beige uniform and when I tell you that thing like Rosalie.

Eddie, Rosalie says, batting her eyes and rolls his back into his pocket, returns his attention to me. You wanna help me write reports? A promotion, I ask, blushing? The women around guessing the same pay. I agree.

Ignoring stares, including Rosalie who swears under her breath. Redding again, I focus on the film. Eddie doesn't have a girlfriend. [00:33:00] I have a boyfriend. We tell stories, laugh at bad jokes, flirt, share breakfast, eat lunch, Swig Soli, nap on flattened cardboard mountain stacked to the ceiling.

I do my job quickly in his office. The same time it takes him to walk the floor, uh, a daily routine. Then we are done for the day. No 1 is watching over me except him. 3 months later, I tell Eddie it's my last day.

I'm here to pick up my check. Not sure if we should hug or shake hands. Yeah. Well, see you, he says, and walks back onto the factory floor. Years later, I hear that hazardous waste drums are discovered An open pit in the parking lot where Rosalie parked her moped and the rest of us toiled in darkness.

I imagine Eddie walking the darkroom floor marking time, year in and year out, drinking solely alone or with someone Misbehaving behind closed doors, daring to be caught. [00:34:00] What happened to all those people who worked in the dark? Thank you, Michael. You know, it's funny. When I read the book, those 2 poems stood out.

Hello. So so to hear you read them was really a treat. We're gonna take a brief second, Just a couple of seconds for you to breathe, and we'll be right back. Okay. [00:35:00] We are back.

Mhmm. I am Michael Anthony Ingram. I am here with Margaret Arcedico. Margaret. What?

I won't ask you to read either 1 again. But were there any lines in either 1? Yes. Were there any lines in either of them that really made you proud that you had an opportunity to write them or lines that you felt like, wow. This is quite challenging for the world to read.

So it was challenging because it's very revealing, uh, for me. In order for this to really come through. I had to show how vulnerable I could be in that situation and how intimate it was. Because he wouldn't show other people [00:36:00] this at all, uh, of of the other people that we would be around. So that was the hardest part.

But, Yeah. He I think that the line, um, that I really worked on a lot was that when his nightmares return, he forgets me, holds dispirited memories beneath laugh lines, slow, careful, Waiting like a good soldier. Can I be trusted? Wow. That was that was the piece that really set the poem Emotionally.

Yes. Yeah. You know, with the second longer 1 0, With the longer 1, I could I could picture the second. Oh, I could picture both. But the fur the second 1, just the the the office atmosphere, I can see it back in the day.

Totally different than it is now for all of us. So I can imagine what that was like. Yeah. That's good. And, you know, it started out, I think, as a short story, [00:37:00] and I kept thinking, no.

I I gotta write it as a poem. That that 1 needed to become a poem in order for it to work. Um, it was very yeah. You know, and not an uncommon experience really, but, uh, you know, I think we were speaking earlier, you and I. It's like, where what have I had that, um, you know, I I I think about.

They just come back every once in a while into my consciousness now. Those are the things that I end up writing about. I had to write about Rosalie. She was just such a character. There was a movie in 19 57.

I think the title was Desk Set with Catherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy. Yeah. And it's about automating an office, and that came to mind. Yeah. Yeah.

I know. I know it. Yes. That's interesting. Yeah.

This is factory floor. So factory I'm I I did a, um, my friend Paul Rabinowitz, I think, Might have been on your show too. Yes. Paul was on the show. Yes.

[00:38:00] Yes, Paul. I'm Paul. We did some kind of project Together at 1 point, uh, just kinda playing around with stuff, uh, to, like, present ourselves as artists, like, who we are as artists. And I made a list of all the jobs I've ever worked. Oh my god.

I've worked so many jobs this time, um, mostly because I was also in the theater. Um, and so you always have, like, 3 or 4 jobs. I've never had less than 3 jobs at any given time. Even if retired, I have My damn shot? It's it's a it's a

politics wealth.

You know? It really is. So What a shock. Yeah. So Yeah.

When you write a poll, who leads, Margaret? Who leaves? You or the poor?

That's another 1 of those questions, isn't it? Um, it's, uh, it's a good question.

When [00:39:00] I write a poem, so sometimes what happens is, um, I have something in mind, And it will start to come out. Um, but my most success I have, I think, with Not so much the least amount of revisions, but often the fastest track to where I'm trying to get to is when I really don't have something in mind And I write where I am. And then as I'm writing, things start to come out that are in my subconscious. Um, actually, Michael, you know, I do a lot of it. I used to do it.

I'm gonna go back to it again, but I would do a meditation And then come out of the meditation and go right into the writing. It was it was such a trip to see what comes out. I won a couple of workshops like that too for people, and it's really fascinating because you get out of your own way. So some of these poems, like I said, [00:40:00] The the the less than nothing started out as a short story, and I

knew it wasn't working as a short story. I wanted it to pack a bigger punch in a shorter amount of time.

Could have been fast fiction, I guess. Um, but I that it was a different process. Um, but a lot of the stuff that I write comes out of Here I just say, okay. I'm out of my way. What's what's going on?

And just start writing. The title the title, I mean, is so so strong, so visceral in a sense For me, as I as I think about it, so when that particular poem and the title, what came first? The title or the poem? I mean, I could just see sitting on a panel like that forever waiting to do something else. Yeah.

Yeah. Yeah. Between the sheets, actually, I I think that the the poem came first. I don't I'm not the best with titles. So, um, [00:41:00] Sometimes it comes out and it just comes.

Sometimes I write the poem and then I will give it a working title. I know it's a

working title because I I can't do untitled. Um, that drives me crazy because

then I don't know what I'm looking for when I'm looking on my computer at A

thousand untitled poems? Yes. Which 1 is this?

Um, but then I really it I I asked for, like, feedback from people and stuff about titles because I think it's so important. Um, and I think Alex and I worked on this title together. I think we worked on it, um, or I I just had a lot of thoughts about it. Mhmm. But it was definitely the poem that came first for this 1.

And then it made sense. Right? That's where are your secrets kept? So that form and the title is with. Right?

And then the leaving the dog was tired at the end of the poem. Am I correct? I

think so. Is that Oh, even the dog is quiet. Quiet.

Quiet. Oh my god. You're [00:42:00] quiet. Oh my god. You get the concept.

You you get the concept. But work with me, Margaret. Work with me. It's been a long life. Don't listen.

You're my only focus right now. I am very young. I'm all over Old Market. I'm all over Old. I I know that.

So what it's so funny. Um, when I did that phone, Um, there are many iterations of that poem too. Mhmm. And, uh, yeah, the last line came out. And when the line came out, I knew That was the title of the poem.

But when I was looking, uh, I think I first started assembling this as, uh, for a contest somewhere. You know, you you start to put things together, and I

thought, oh my god. That's the title of the new manuscript, whatever it is. And then once I had that title, I thought, well, what does that really [00:43:00] mean? It's all of that pulling back.

So you're still laughing. No. I'm just I'm just here with my friend. I'm here with my friend, and I'm happy. Well, share with us at least 4 other titles in the book just so that we get a feel for the titles.

Title. Sure. Um, so there's 1 that's called a collage of misery. Um, do you want to tell what it's about a little bit or just the titles? Just the titles.

Just the title. Okay. So asylum, March 20 20, Getting Ready and Impudence. Those are our 4 other titles. Would you like to hear those poems now?

Are you listening? Choose 1 of those. Yeah. I gotcha. Read 1 of those.

Yes. We're all over the place, so just choose 1 of those. We are. I know. Okay.

So I'm gonna go from getting ready. This is so funny. Alright. Getting ready. The night [00:44:00] before, You left your brown pants carefully pressed draped over the bedroom chair with your shirt.

A simple polo, not the man tailored button down kind. A pair of weekend polished leather shoes you never wore, sneakers except to the garden with argyle stuffed inside, and a light blue sweater neatly folded. You left your watch and college ring on the nightstand where you put them before bed every night. So proud of your master's degree, you wore your ring every day. I never asked if you came down stairs that morning in your pajamas, robe, and slippers to have breakfast or if you crumpled to the ground after showering.

I never asked if mom sensed anything unusual that morning. Were you surprised? Did you call out for help? What were you thinking before your unplanned journey? For years until mom died, she left everything [00:45:00] the way you left it, Dry cleaned your pants twice a month and draped them over the chair, laundered and pressed Your shirt weekly, shined your shoes, dusted your jewelry, replacing everything exactly.

Though sometimes, she slipped your watch over her wrist and ring onto her finger. I never asked mom as I watched her tend to your belongings what happened that morning. The day after mom died, I returned home to look for both of you. I sat on the bed crying surrounded by your things. So, Michael, that's the end of the 1 account.

If you wanted me to read more, just let me know. But that's that course is about my dad's, You know? Mhmm. Fine. What No.

This is think what do you think your work You must slip [00:46:00] this 1 in. What do you think your world conveys about the human condition? You know, it's, um, when I'm out and about Mhmm. I'm always wondering what people are going through in their days. You know, sometimes there's, like, you know, anger in the street with people, you know, beeping at each other.

And I'm always thinking about, well, What are they going through? What got them here to this place that they're so upset, they're angry? Or, um, you know, there's always The whole thing about, you know, if you're kind and you pass on kindness, it's, uh, you can really spread back. But there's something else that operates that we're all living in this, Um, in these mini universes and but we're we we're constantly interacting. Mhmm.

So I think that, We have moments all through our lives, and I think that if someone can Connect with something I'm writing that [00:47:00] I've I've done my job as a as a writer and an artist. I think that's what I'm always looking for because I I wanna know, like, what can I do to help really? You know, that's that's my spiritual space that I try to live in. I'm not always there, you know, but I'm I I do think about, like, you know, sometimes people just need to just need to say, hey. Are is everything okay?

You know, and and really and hope and hope for an honest answer. Not like, hey. Are you doing okay? Yeah. Sure.

Sure. No problem. Not that. Mhmm. But really so the I that's what I'm hoping my work is doing is getting underneath those moments.

You know, it people lose people. Right? We all lose people. Yes. Hardest.

Right? So true. So true. Yeah. Please please share another set if you feel like it. Share share another set. I'd love to hear more. Okay. Alright. If you feel like it.

If if I feel like it I feel like it. It's [00:48:00] okay. Okay. Good. This 1 is called, uh, the Family Bank.

The 19 27 little red brick bank with white marble counters services my town. Bankers in black suits sit at large maple desks cleaned by invisible workers who labor after hours. Clerks in gray skirts and white tops work behind polished grown grapes. Velvet maroon ropes accentuate shoes and oversized adding machine swallow inputted numbers producing paper ribbons. Mom dresses well on visits, Slides cash into envelopes, greets tellers by name.

I know lunchtime lines on Friday. Paydays are long. The bank opens at 9, closes at 3, and shuts down on weekends. Heavy stampers mark my first passbook at 10 with loud kachings, Deposits duly recorded, [00:49:00] lollipops rewarded. Yet behind forced smiles, the pain A patron sneaks its way into my child likes you.

Frozen accounts, unavailable money, Loans denied, men in fedoras angled down, women clutching black handbags that snap shut, Children led by hand, sometimes escorted to exit by security guards. The day my father dies, Mom applies makeup to visit the family bank, emptying their safe deposit box and closing accounts before discovering our secret. Grief wrapped into 1 tight ball. Weeks later, when I returned from college, mom tells me they offered condolences as she comes clean. Did they know when we were there that day?

I asked. Sometime after mom died, I returned to the bank. May I help you? An employee inquires. Beyond [00:50:00] beyond severe and plain, men still seated at desks, And the women behind Bulletproof Partitions Gendered Rolls.

None know my name or recognize me. Just looking, I say, and blush at my stupid remark. After an uncomfortable moment, a security guard follows me out. I drive out of town back home over the bridge. Um, and the next 1, um, please read that I'm gonna read, I think, is, um, gonna read rue.

Rue as in sorrow. Years later, hurt in my chest that screams too much. Maria surprises me in my classroom carrying a small box of flowers, yellow sprays, Bright red carnations and waxy unspoiled leaves. A loving gesture for coming back too soon from surgery. I placed the flowers on the scratched [00:51:00] oak desk.

Stick fingers in the spongy styrofoam that keeps them fresh. Embrace her as the floral scent reaches my nose, softening the hardness I feel towards the day.

Before I came in, I was leaning against the radiator like I was back in my old Chevy Chevette 20 again, Frightened and sore, running from tragedy and pain. Today, returning to 20 from 60, I'm willing to take a chance and rewarded with an act of kindness. I hold her longer than I should.

And the last 1 in the set I wanted to read, uh, Michael, is called impudence. I can touch my rage of the world festering below the surface of my prickly skin. If I scratch myself with my fingernail, I can reach it. This rage boils my blood and picks indiscriminately [00:52:00] at my sinews and muscles as I build a fortress against benevolence and merriment. I resist logic and dog reason and wisdom that comes with good sense.

All that drains from me now, Forever depleted, and what is left in its place taking up space is this rage at the world, at my world, Unfathomable. Immeasurable for that. I love that. That 1 came out with the title first, almost exactly the way it is. Yeah.

And may I say that the Crazy politics of the world and the anger and Mhmm.

That I have towards everything. Yes. I understand. I guess I can Manny show.

Um, you know Yes. Of course. Labeling craziness that we experience and not just Yes. We are. I think that's [00:53:00] 1 of the reasons that I commune with you so much is that, again, you understand the human condition.

You have empathy and for people, and it's just a tough time right now, and that's okay to say. It's okay to say. Yeah. To be real. Yeah.

It's okay to say. It's okay to say. So as you think and you may have already answered this, and you know how I am. I go over things over and over and over again. But yes.

Who's your audience? A broad range of readers, or are you targeting a specific group? You know, it's let's think about that for a second because I don't think I target a specific group. I don't think I do that, um, only because I don't like excluding people. Okay.

So I'm I don't want anyone to feel like they can't access my work. I, you know, I

taught middle school for 27 years. I've Oh, right. You know, some of my middle school kids, I think, I've actually picked up my book, [00:54:00] um, and read parts of it, which is great. Mhmm.

But it's mostly I said geared towards adults. It's not a a You book or Some great You books out there. I love to read You as well as an adult. Uh, but I think I'm trying to open it up and say, um, I have a lot of people that tell me they don't read much poetry and they like to read my book. And I and I'm always so excited about that because I can say, oh, if you like this, definitely check out this poet And that poet.

Mhmm. And all of a sudden, um, we've opened up someone else, you know, to a world of poetry that's just growing. But I don't, yeah, I don't think I I don't think I do that. I don't every you know, when you're doing theater, you're definitely thinking about the audience and how they're gonna react and who's coming in and all of that stuff, But anybody can come in. Mhmm.

And then you're just gotta perform for the people that are there. Right? Um, even if you're doing spoken word, If there's 2 people in the audience or there's 60, form for the people of the there, and you're like you welcome [00:55:00] everybody into the space together if you create this show. Does that make sense? It does make sense.

So if I'm standing in the line if I'm standing in the line waiting to purchase your book and I happen to see you, What would you tell me? What would you tell me before I pick it up, if anything? Oh, I hope you enjoy it. It's really been a labor of love. And, um, definitely take a look at the pictures.

Use the pictures or the writing. Go with the pictures. Alright. This is why I didn't enjoy talking. Um, but, you know, when people are, like, I'm at a a book sale or a festival or something like that, and I'll say to people, go ahead and Pick up a book and read a poem.

Like, it's and it's totally [00:56:00] fine if you don't want it. I'll still give you a big book bookmark with a palm on it. So, you know, it's it's really great to just meet people. It's not so much about, you know, um, it's great to sell the book. I love that.

I love being able to share my writing, But I'm also just trying to communicate with leaders and find people in community. Yes. Yeah. You're you're 1 of my favorites. So in that in that well of talent, do you have any more questions to share with us?

What? You want me to You would have read the whole book by the time that you finished. I know. That's right. Alright.

So let's see. Yeah. I guess, So you tell me. We we have time for, like what do you think? 3 more poems?

Let's see. Are we ready? Because I've got a couple more questions. So 1 1 poem, 1 question, 1 poem, 1 question, and we're almost into our journey. Gonna read asylum March 20 20.[00:57:00] 

Madness here and there sprinkled on supermarket shelves Raise your voice to be heard in your home, alone, or with a cat, a dog, a few children, your partner working or laid off. Walk but stand apart, wait on the sidewalk, step into the street while others pass on a 1 way street With 2 way traffic, take turns, stay masked, convey warmth to strangers, joke about cabin fever, Propel us from our sanctuaries. Strange how we've never seen these people before. Anonymous and liberated, I write at my computer Waiting for inspiration. A phone, my sole daily companion.

I dress for work each day except for my shoes. Slippers offer more comfort, and I don't bother dyeing my hair. Yesterday, it snowed on a spring day, normal for the in like a lion, out like a lamb, march natural confusion [00:58:00] that carries a wealth of sadness with it of things gone wrong. The only consistency, the madness that lay at the center of a slushy and perfect storm. Today, with the sun, there is some hope Though we hear of sickness and death within our 6 degrees, royal decrees of old nail to wooden doors with Announcements of border closings and quarantees while our 2 children live far from us and every day feel farther.

I vowed not to write about the virus today, but it came through anyway. I fight the need to scream. So that, um, bath home is actually gonna also appear in, um, First Virtual, which is an online journal, um, that I'm sharing. I'm sharing that them as well. Um, and, of course, we know what it's about.

Mhmm. Really trying to mark a little bit of history with that. Right? Yes. Yes.

You know? Yes. For people to find it. [00:59:00] Yeah. See if I can cover so much.

You cover a lot of terrain. What did you learn about yourself writing even the dog was quiet or tired? What did you learn about yourself? It was a quiet dog. Uh, it's quiet.

It's a quiet dog. I'm really not a client. I'm very well trained, so I have to do it. It's great. Uh, I think I I think what I've been learning is that I have a lot more stories to tell that, um, sometimes you feel as a writer that maybe you won't find the next story or poem.

Um, so putting things into the universe, I'm also allowing the reader in exposing myself. And that's just being scary, but it feels right. You know? I I I'm also, like, I feel like I'm only in this body, in this [01:00:00] life once, so I'm gonna make use of it. So that's Mhmm.

Kind of where I am now with putting everything out there. Um, yeah. Because that's kinda where I where what I've been discovering. So each, You know, I've I've published a lot in between, uh, a lot of places with all of my work, but assembling a book is very different. It's a it's a birthing process.

You know? Yes. I can understand. Yeah. Yeah.

We're gonna try with this caller 1 more time Because they've been with us the entire program. Oh, wow. Alright. Hey. It's like I'm getting there.

Let's see. Hello? Calling 9 1 7. You're on the air with Margaret. Good evening.

Hi. Hi, Laurie. This is the Caravan. How are you? Well, great.

Sorry. Hi. Yes. Okay. Yeah.

Yeah. It's gonna be very, very exciting because I really gotta it was so entertaining tonight. And Margaret's gonna be reading for Brownstone poets on June 20 [01:01:00] ninth On Zoom. Oh, Patricia. This is Guy Me Patricia.

Hello? Yeah. Patricia Carrigan. Cool. Yeah.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Oh, this is very I'm getting Excited.

That's like so oh my god. So she's gonna be reading for me, uh, June 20 ninth with Ronald, uh, Bremer and Jada Gordon. It's June 20 ninth. Alright. Yeah.

Yeah. Everybody's gonna. Right? Do you have a question for Margaret, if you need? I just, uh, hopefully, should be writing more of this good stuff because I'm enjoying it.

Yeah. Not quite. I mean, you guys have been really doing the questions for me. So, yeah, I'm just listening and enjoying it now. Oh, great.

That's so great. Well, I'm tired. Alright. I'm putting together the anthology, and, uh, Margaret's, uh, is in it. Alright.[01:02:00] 

Well, thank you. Excited. Yeah. Yes. And I have a meeting for Brownstone Post Michael in, um, In June, and you have and their, um, their organization is also they're attached to Poetry for Prada, which is a publishing group.

Yeah. Roxanne Hawthorne is Roxanne Hoffman. So it's really they're very, very powerful poetry people is what Alright. Thank you. I'll be sending out another email in the very near future because I only have, like, 50 of my people.

Okay. I look for it. This works. Okay. We've got to complete a family reunion.

Thank you, Cole. Oh my gosh. Bob. Alright. Margaret, we're almost at the [01:03:00] end of our journey.

This has been the world And it has been another 2 seconds. Do you have 1 more poor man? I just wanna hear that. Correct? Yeah.

Should I go long or should I go short? Michael, tell me. What do you think? I got 2 more, but 1 is short and 1 is long. What what's ever the wrong 1?

Service. Whatever's on your heart, whatever you feel you need to share, deserve a strong time. Let's do this. Okay. This is just, um, yeah, it's our time, actually.

So here we go. It's called the collage of misery. I think you'll like this 1. Civil war buffs and tourists drive the open and preserve Gettysburg Battlefield wandering this national park by car, bus, and on foot. A Pennsylvania cornfield where soldiers fought and died, blood saturated the soil.

Confederates march from the shores of the [01:04:00] Susquehanna River across sacred lands of massacred tribes of the Potomac, Delaware, and Chesapeake converging here and in Gettysburg. On Cemetery Hill Overlooking union soldiers graves, a honey locust looms. The witness tree, now 179 years old whose lifespan should be only 100 sits in a grove that was cleared quickly to bury the dead. She stands watch in eternal flame providing a backdrop for Lincoln's address and comfort for all who come to mourn. The land is tired.

The ghosts skim the earth as the living share stories. There's a monument erected to pregnant Elizabeth and other women in Evergreen Cemetery. 6 months into childbearing, she buried 100 soldiers. It had to be done. The newspaper reporter searching for his eldest son [01:05:00] finds his body in an abandoned military hospital.

Surgeons fled leaving his son and others to die alone. And 1 of the 2 lone black soldiers, Henry Wood reinterred from Alm's House Cemetery 21 years after the war and Charles Parker giving his resting place 73 years late later, good enough to fight, not good enough to rest sides, white, and segregated cemeteries. These grounds hallowed and hallowed are a collage of misery. The dead speak to the living in a singular voice from little known and famous stories. From the blood soaked earth through erected monuments, through a legacy of native names, pains of tragedy, suffering, Fear, tears, and a tree spared unknowingly keeping watch on their souls.[01:06:00] 

That's the end of that call. You know, thank you for sharing that because it goes back to our conversation prior to the show that Black History Month is American History Month, and we're all involved. We should all have a resting place together, Not separate. Mhmm. Not not 73 years later.

You know? It means your spirit is wandering around for 73 years. Yes. Nutilix in real life. Why I wanted to hear it.

Yeah. Yes. I know. I'm so glad you did. I know.

I'm so glad you did. It's a fitting poem for this time. What what can we purchase? Purchasing. Where can we purchase I'll get this.

I'll have something funny to say That if you walk into the store to Amazon and you say, I I want this book called Even the Dog Was Tired. And then the clerk You mean even the dog was quiet? Yeah. That that's the 1. He was so close.

[01:07:00] Go and quiet. Where can you purchase the book, my friend? Where can you purchase the book? Where can you purchase the book? So you can do like, most Well, mine scares are pairing it now because it goes to Ingram Publishing, so you could certainly get it at Barnes and Noble and Amazon, but also Goodreads and a bunch of independent stores.

Like, it's in, um, online in Powell's in Portland, Oregon, um, which is 1 of my favorite stores ever. It's such a great store. But, like, my my, um, it's also where I live in Montclair, there's a independent store called Irish Imprints, and it's there. Um, it's in libraries if you wanted to, uh, certain libraries around. Um, but if you'd like to purchase it and you're not sure where to go, Just come to my website and all the information is there.

It's, uh, margaret flower code dot com. Can't be harder uh, easier than that. Right? Yes. H t t p s.

Right? But, yeah, they can definitely come and, um, I'd love to connect with people. So It's great if you're if you're looking or you have feedback for me, please come and visit my website. Let me know what you think. [01:08:00] Yeah.

My friend, where do you go from here? What's next for you creatively? I'm sure there's something Creative. Turning around. Oh, gosh.

You know, there's always a project or 2. Yeah. You got it. I'm actually I I was feeling a little bit, like, anxious the other day, so I thought I really need to pull out my novel. And so I think it was a couple of weeks ago, I revised the first 17 chapters of my novel.

So I'm back in that. 17 chapters. There's, like, 50 chapters. Right? And I'm I'm getting better at it.

It's just, like, with a book of okay. So To be real, when you're writing a novel, you need a lot more focus and time. And as soon as I retired, I wrote 2 poetry books. So now it's like, okay. Do I have that time to work on this?

It's it's gonna be a great novel, I think. I I like it. Um, I'm also contemplating 2 more books of poetry. They're at the beginning stages. I'm not sure where they're gonna go yet, but I'm also Thinking about, [01:09:00] like, a multi genre artistic piece.

So I've got all of these ideas out there. And I I Also, um, I like writing plays, so I'm starting to go back into that. You know, now that I've published my second book, I've seen I have time, but I don't really. Where where is your audiobook? Where is your audiobook?

I'm with audiobook. You got that you speak with a New York sensibility. Where where is your Yeah. Yeah. Where is your audiobook?

I don't where I don't have an audiobook. I know That's what that's what I'm saying. About that. Right? Yeah.

I know. I know. I know. I've actually yeah. I don't I don't wanna do an ebook.

I don't I know that people like to read ebooks, but I think poetry you have to hold in hand, but certainly listening to it might be fun. So that would be fun too. Yeah. I'm gonna put that on my list, Michael. Alright.

Alright. Well, we've reached the end of our poetic journey, and I wanna thank you. I may have said it before during your last trip here that you are [01:10:00] a gift. I won't just say to the poetic universe. I'll say to the writing universe.

I enjoy your work. I thank you for nominal. Thank you. And I wish you nothing but continued success. Oh, thank you.

It's always a pleasure being here with you. If you've done this twice, then it's just so it's so fun and interesting. And, you know, your questions, and we've talked about this before. It's, uh, They really they bring up a lot of reflection as a writer. So I think you offer that as to your to your guests as a way to, like, dig deeper, And that's really lovely.

So thank you. Well, I think that 1 thing that you said in terms of providing the, Paul, Paul Richmond, providing the the person with the room to breathe, needing that space, that really struck me. So you tell me when you see it that that Okay. That really I got you. That was great because I never thought about that.

I never thought [01:11:00] about Providing someone space to breathe, especially if in my life, I didn't have an opportunity to breathe during that period. You see what I'm saying? I know. Yes. I do.

We Yeah. We can talk about that later in the evening. Amazing. Yes. And plan another plan.

Alright. So for your third trip back. Alright then. Everyone, I wanna thank you for joining us again. The book is Even the Dog is Quiet.

Go out. Buy it somewhere in the universe. I love that word. And as I share with him every time we're together, let poetry ring somewhere throughout the land. Good night, Margaret.

Thank you. Good night, Michael. Bye bye. Still craving poetry? Hundreds of episodes of the quintessential listening, poetry online, radio, and YouTube podcast are available to listen to or download on iTunes, Spotify, and other streaming [01:12:00] platforms.

To learn more about this popular podcast or how to become a guest, Visit w w w dot q l p o r y t dot com. Till next time, take care, and Let poetry ring somewhere throughout the land. 

 

Margaret R. SáracoProfile Photo

Margaret R. Sáraco

Even the Dog Was Quiet

Margaret R. Sáraco is a storyteller writing at the intersection of poetry, fiction, and memoir. Her writing appears in anthologies and literary journals including Paterson Literary Review, Exit 13, The Path Literary Magazine, Book of Matches, Greening the Earth (Penguin Books), Lips, and
Kerning: A Space for Words. She is a poetry editor for the Platform Review, has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and twice recognized in the Allen Ginsberg Poetry Contest. Margaret has recorded video poems for Poetry of Protest and Struggle, Writing the Land, and Poets Wear Prada, performs spoken word and leads writing workshops. Margaret also taught middle school students in math and writing for 27 years and recently retired in June 2022. She published her debut poetry collection If There Is No Wind in September 2022, and Even the Dog Was Quiet, thirteen months later in October 2023, both with Human Error Publishing. She lives in Montclair, NJ with her husband Alex, who did the illustrations for her latest book.

Amazon.com: Even the Dog Was Quiet: 9781948521185: Sáraco, Margaret R.: Books