This is an essay about blackouts. Not the electrical kind, as in This is the largest blackout in the region’s history, or A squirrel caused the neighborhood blackout. And not the kind that means a period of unconsciousness, as in I felt really faint and then I blacked out, or I blacked out when the car hit the pole and I didn’t come to until after surgery, or I drank so much I blacked out on the couch and when I woke up my friends had sharpied a moustache on my face. But I do mean a kind you have to drink to achieve. Here is the essay:
Raphael Dagold’s collection of poems, Bastard Heart, was published by Silverfish Review Press in 2014. His poetry and prose has appeared in Indiana Review, Frank, Washington Square, Northwest Review, and elsewhere; poems are forthcoming in North American Review and Western Humanities Review. This winter, he was a finalist for the 2015 North American Review James Hearst Poetry Prize and won the 2015 Mountain West Writers’ Award in Poetry. The recipient of fellowships and awards from the Ucross Foundation, AWP, Oregon Literary Arts, and the Vermont Studio Center, he has taught writing and literature at Lewis and Clark College, the University of Utah, and other institutions. He is a PhD candidate in Creative Writing and Literature at the University of Utah, where he recently won the Ramona Cannon Award for Graduate Student Teaching Excellence in the Humanities.