The Wheeler Centre

‘I kept dripping yesterday’s goo’, Jenny Zhang writes, in her collection My Baby First Birthday. Poems can be glorious repositories for the gooey, the disgusting, the visceral, the scatological. What can we read into such abject textures? Panda Wong writes, ‘memories are the meat of the world. I’m chewing over them like sinew.’ In this conversation, poets Jenny Zhang and Panda Wong discuss their poetics of disgust, of abjection, and of grief.