There’s a Poem for That: Domenica Martinello + Good Want

All Lit Up: Can you tell us a bit about Good Want and how it came to be?

Domenica Martinello: The earliest poems in Good Want came to be from a daily ritual: Write one sestet per day for a year. One six-line poem, six words per line, like a tiny rosary bead. I needed to blank-slate my brain to discover what, if anything, was next for my writing. The durational aspect, the repetition, the simple constraint—it unlocked new subject matter for me. Not much remains from that ritual (at least not in its original form), but it allowed me to get out of my own way.  

As for the title, I saw the two words, “good” and “want,” spelled out on a portable dry erase board at 5AM. They were stacked one on top of the other, like being good trumped whatever else you may want. I’d been teaching English online to kids in different time zones that summer, and it was part of my lesson (the spelling, I mean). As soon as I saw the words like that, in red marker, I knew with 100% certainty that it was the title for whatever it was that I was writing. Which turned out to be, among other things, something about the uselessness and joy and unfairness of poetry and god.

ALU: What sparked your initial love of poetry?

DM: As a kid, I read tons of the kinds of novels you could easily find at garage sales. Poetry didn’t really exist for me back then—though I’d always unknowingly loved the lyric. I had a 60-page running Word doc during the Myspace era (2004?) where I recorded lines from all my favourite songs. 

When I finally made my way to a creative writing workshop, I was quickly dispelled of any notion that I was a novelist. I became obsessed with poetry as if it had just been invented, and solely for my benefit. I liked the dynamic of it. The more you learned the rules, the more successfully you could break them. 

ALU: Has your idea of poetry changed since you began writing?   

DM: At the beginning I thought poetry had to be about big and awe-inspiring moments—so I’d fabricate these grand, existential gestures. Ecstatic highs and degrading lows, all hollow. I didn’t think my life was all that interesting or worthy of examination. I also thought the act of writing poetry was precious and powerful. Like Kendall Jenner giving a Pepsi to a cop and ushering in an era of world peace, I thought poetry could be that can of cola.  

So, what’s changed is what I think poetry can “be about” and what it can accomplish. Revising some of these ideas about poetry is actually central to Good Want. Something that hasn’t changed, and that tethers me to poetry still, is that I find it as mysterious and unruly and surprising as I did when I first began writing. 

ALU: If you were to set your collection to a soundtrack, what song is at the top of the listing? 

DM: Great question, as I do love to create playlists or soundtracks for the things I’m working on. The first song on my actual soundtrack for Good Want is “Seventeen” by Sharon Van Etten.