I am convinced that I sound like an idiot in interviews, so I won’t encourage you to check out this (very long) interview at Newbooksinpoetry.com. Thanks to John Ebersole for listening to me ramble about cats, Heidegger, rock tees, & Miley.
Interview w/ me in the Los Angeles Review of Books
In this interview, I say things about adolescent males, not going to weddings, John Jeremiah Sullivan, homeless people, being published in The New Yorker, writing stuff, the Beatles, Sean Cassidy, Mexico, Robert Lowell, the self, Inspector Clouseau, & other shit.
Interview w/ me at Suicide Girls (SFW)
Slash is upset and the helicopter is swirling around and he’s just got to play a solo in the desert. There’s no cord connecting his guitar to an amp, but he doesn’t care. It’s an important image. It’s like the moon landing for my generation.
Very kind profile of me in The New York Observer. Thank you, Michael Miller
With “Alien vs. Predator” Mr. Robbins had taken poetry indoors, and inside the head of the frustrated suburban loser. His work eschews the outside world for a stack of records and trashy television (T. Rex, Ghostface Killah, Xbox and Meerkat Manor all make appearances in the book). If the poem that gave the book its name hinted at the arrival of a new kind of poet—one whose obsession with contemporary pop culture might even have crossover potential—this excellent debut delivers on that promise.