Luisa Caycedo-Kimura’s Comments

These poems chronicle the trajectory of my obsession-driven muse over the past few years. For a while, it seemed all I could write about was death and abuse in their many forms. I still care about the topic of abuse and likely always will. Then my heart was broken by the loss of what was perhaps the most important non-romantic friendship I’ve ever had. Also, my husband and I realized we’d become unwitting nomads, moving five times in the past two years, not counting the five places while traveling around Spain, or my two writing residencies last summer. Even now, as I write this, I’m sitting in my mother-in-law’s house in California, after my husband and I packed what we could in our carry-on bags and flew from Connecticut to care for her. I suspect there may be more poems about our nomadic existence on the horizon.

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