Poetry from Seattle artist/poet Kayt Hoch.

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Kayt Hoch

Poems were never something I went looking for, they just always seemed to be around. Folks began giving me books of poetry before I could read, and thankfully my father read them to me. Pretty much as soon as I could put letters together in some acceptable fashion I began writing poems—I suppose it simply never occurred to me not to.

I’m not big on writer’s statements, but you can read a little bit more about my perspectives on my writing, or some biographical narrative about me at these links if you would like. In addition, you can find resources for writers here, read the published versions of some of my poems and/or contact me here for an account where you can read newer works in progress and offer input (or comments) on the poems if you like. If you already have a New Poems account you can sign-in via collaborate.

In Dickinson’s late work, work trusted to fortune and stripped of protection, she wandered outside of beginnings and endings, outside all forms of address and signature.

At last she wandered so far from the center that her refusal of destination (final intentions) itself became her aesthetic.

Marta L. Werner

Emily Dickinson’s Open Folios, 1995