Years ago, I had this great photo of a storm spiral over Antarctica. It was a full-page photo I ripped out of a magazine, probably a National Geographic, and which I eventually lost somewhere. But I think of it every once in a while—fairly regularly, actually. It’s weird.
William Stobb talks to the Kenyon Review about the images, songs, and memories that inspire his poetry, including his affinity for “It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp.”
