I know I probably shouldn't say this, but there are certain questions you always get in Q & A. And in interviews. Certain questions I never answer honestly. If I did, the answer would be either (a) no, or (b) I have no clue, or (c) . . .
I really think there should be another answer: (c) Something between a burp and a splat.
A kind of erf or berap.
So the interview might go:
Question 1: Do you have a certain routine or program you stick to? Do you always write in a certain way? At a certain time?
Berap! (Oh do excuse me) Berap!
Question 2: Why do you write prose poems?
Question 3: What do you think about the fact that no one reads poetry, much less prose poetry?
Berap! Berap! Berap!
When did you first know you would be a writer?
What did your parents think of your poetry?
Berap! Berap! Berap! Berap! (Oh, my insides really are a problem.)
Do you consider yourself a Midwestern poet?
Erf (though I have noticed how many writers are very careful to say that they are transplants to the Midwest. Unless they live in Chicago.)
How/why did you get published? Can you get me published too? Will you read my manuscript? My girlfriend's manuscript? My dead mother's manuscript?
Erf, Brap, Erf, Brap, Erf, Brap, Erf! BRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPP!!!
Yeah, yeah. I know. It's an honor to be interviewed, questioned. So why am I complaining? How dare I? And really, what would I want to be asked?
How about: Did you eat your grits today?
Well, did you?
Gabriel García Márquez
16 hours ago