Le paradis n'est pas artificiel …

Hello. I'm Maureen Evans. Spezzato is my electronic notebook. You will find many drafts here, automatic poems and gleanings, rough evolutions between paper and print, and other live works of writing.

Originally from northern Canada, I’m a wandering poet and writer, technology anarchist and ingénue: last at large in London, and now in New York. I’m trying to publish a first collection of poetry written in Northern Ireland, where I earned an MA English Hons at the Queen’s University of Belfast. I previously studied writing and anthropology at UBC. I love everything wild, beautiful and hard.

I hope you'll write to me.

You may have encountered my poems at The Poet in New York, or The KGB Bar reading series; or we met at Pete’s Candy Store. I’m excited by those places right now. My writing has otherwise appeared in journals around the world, including Hubbub, Ribbons (Tanka Society of America Journal), The Huffington Post, The Ulster Tatler, Ferment Zine, Room (of One’s Own), Fugue, and Re:Verse.

Or maybe you arrived here via Twitter, laboratory for two ongoing experiments: as the first poet there, jotting over 1500 haiku as @Maureen; and a vast collection of poetically-encoded recipes as @Cookbook. Unexpectedly successful, the latter became a published book, a reference tome of 1000 tweets, EAT TWEET (Artisan 2010).

I focus on poetic truth, and true magic: poetry as a unique record / engine of human transformation, with socially-networked narratives extending to the Web in continuation of storytelling traditions, rather than some new thing. I like enabling others' reading and writing; for example, volunteering as Poet in Residence at Youngpoets.ca, editor-tutor on high schooler-written books at 826 Valencia, transcriptionist of oral histories at McSweeney’s, and teaching adult literacy at The Carnegie Centre.

In London I started Poetica, a collaborative editing environment for writers. Then I broke away from the broad stroke to travel and write again, eyes big love-crumbs set upon NYC. When I’m not writing or walking long distances paying close attention, my favourite thing is to read many books at once.

So if you look beside my bed right now, I'm underway reading WHAT I’VE STOLEN, WHAT I’VE EARNED, by Sherman Alexie; THE THIN SMOKE OF THE HEART, by Tim Bowling; MADNESS, RACK & HONEY, by May Ruefle; and THE TIN DRUM, by Günter Grass, collecting dust because somehow reading novels feels decadent to me.

I have a difficult time with decadence, and an easy time with rapture.

Thank you for reading poetry.