About the Poems
by Jen Tynes
One of the most ghost-ridden stories I know is actually a riddle, the clue-part of a riddle my grandfather told me when I was a kid: what has a tongue but no mouth, eyes that cannot see, follows you around all day and sits beneath your bed at night? The answer is your shoes, but that neither dampens nor satisfies the horror, detach, curiosity: a tongue without a mouth. I asked to hear it over and over. Lately I've been working on some poems that operate under the same premise. Riddles, like prayers, solve problems. The comparison of poems and riddles is stale (and often derogatory); I'm trying to re-discover it.
I've also been writing poems while I walk and while I drive, noting the differences in sound and line. These poems are part of both projects.