These poems are an assorted pack ranging from rural America to Latin America, from harsh to dream-like; all the while catching the subtle oddities and the strange undertones of the moment. They search for brief feelings of escape from suffering but first allow it to flay. Or, at least, this is what the author hopes for.
The author attributes any amount of creativity to, “bits of adventure followed by mass amounts of the mundane.” For example, Child may spend four months wandering aimlessly through Latin America, saving a life in the Pacific, and follow up with two years of daily commutes and unreasonably long naps (deep reflection). It’s the complete package of audio books, movie rentals, hiking, yoga, and obtaining a doctorate in something particularly boring.
Growing up in the rural Midwest, peculiar encounters were often; always being a moment away from a “chainsaw massacre” (more or less). Anomalies and abnormalities were commonplace and juxtaposed against a serene and silent landscape. Shuffling through woodlands abundant with the remnants of fauna, in the dirt among the relics of natives, produced, it seemed at the time, a live-in horror fantasy.
For the now, he lives in a city and marvels at the beauty of art cinemas and drive-in theatres, poems by Neruda, Ginsberg and Whitman, paintings by Turner and Grimshaw, music by Modest Mouse, Washed Out, and The Decemberists. Child once sold a painting at a fundraising benefit (at the price of a coloring book).