Poetry, chapbook, 24 pages, from Bottlecap Features.
Themes of alienation, lost love, fear of surveillance, and the search for identity permeate See You Never, a collection of poems revolving around an indictment of past lovers and gender norms exerting force in a bizarre world. The poems investigate the long process of saying goodbye and shedding nostalgia, and the claiming of the self in oppressive environments.
See You Never enjoys a good breathless rant, saying all the things that should have been said in the moment but weren’t. Set in a variety of ordinary places around the United States, including Edgar Allan Poe’s grave, a bad party, and a Waffle House, the poems feature an ongoing urge to escape the recollection of things past —“my memory’s the hot lettuce/and you are the rat sandwich”—and through a dreamy, unsettling world, find some way to turn toward the future.
Originally from the foothills of Appalachia, Karin is a poet and collagist living in Portland, Oregon. She runs The People’s Ink, a free, weekly virtual poetry workshop for anyone who wants to join, and is the former co-curator of Bushwick Sweethearts, a now-defunct zine and reading series based in Brooklyn, New York. Her work has been published in Fence, Right Hand Pointing, Similar Peaks, and elsewhere. You can find her on the internet @drivelikekarin.