Daniel Gallik has had poetry and short stories published by Hawaii Review, Parabola, Nimrod, Limestone
(University of Kentucky), The Hiram Poetry Review, Aura (University of Alabama), and Whiskey Island (Cleveland State University). He has place writings in hundreds of online journals. His first novel, A Story of Dumb Fate is available at publishamerica.com.
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Daniel Gallik Interview, with Nicelle Davis
In your poem “Interrogations,” you transition from one unexpected question to the next to create a well crafted narrative. What do you think is the most important question a poet can ask themselves about their writing?
Thousands of poems are published each month. I ask my poetry to have an edge. Sure, the poems are about regular existence. Deep deep down, I want them to speak with words that stick inside the reader’s psyche. I want them to be jolted by the oddness in life. I want my readers to go nuts.
When did you and poetry first meet? Was it love at first sight?
My mentor, Grace Butcher, conducted seminars at Kent State. Right off she told me she liked my stuff. I am a follower of Socrates and his ‘know thyself’ school. I keep evaluating where I am at with writing and where I should go. Lately, I have been telling myself I am a novelist. Yeah, I turn my poems into flash fiction and then into novels. I know that I am a liar. Good liars are novelists.
In your poem “Larry Remembers When He Was Poor” you make insightful observations on class identification. Do you think of you poems consider themselves rich or poor? How might poetry serve as a bridge between social classes?
In your poem “Larry Remembers When He Was Poor” you make insightful observations on class identification. Do you think of you poems consider themselves rich or poor? How might poetry serve as a bridge between social classes?
I once was poor. Now, I am wealthy enough to be in the upper middle class. I don’t want to be rich. I feel I am in a good position to look at life, at life in America, from all sides. Poetry has made me see that wealth in our nation is a foolish commodity. So many of us are after something that in the long run means nothing. I want our country to strongly consider love and its depths.
What is your writing routine? Do you write everyday, every hour, or only a poem comes to you?
I am an early riser. I work on words between seven in the morning to around noon. Then I say to myself, “What have you been doing? Sitting?” Then I get off my butt and work out, make my heart beat. Then I rest toward evening, have a moderate dinner, and listen to music.
What creative projects are you currently working on?
My fifth novel. The title is ‘Awful Laughter.’ It’s about a woman who loses her husband. He made her smile. She expands her life after this tragedy.
If you could take one line of poetry from another poet and call it your own, what line would it be and why?
"The people come and go speaking of Michelangelo.” Eliot in “…Prufrock” is wanting us to consider the foolishness of star chat. Our society is still into entertainment news and its emptiness. Why do we care so much about a star’s every move? I mean, I am like everyone else and like to see their work, a movie. But I don’t give a shit what they eat, drink, and who they are making love to.
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Interrogations
Uncle Joe told me at least one phone
in the house ought to be a dialer.
I never questioned Uncle Joe.
I never asked my wife why she ate
only Kellogg’s All Bran. I never
asked any of my four daughters
if they had a period recently. One
day I went over to Jones Hardware
to see if they had windshield
washer fluid. And they did. And I
felt good about that. And bought
2 gallons right there. The other
day I asked my doctor whether I
had cancer. He did not have a smile
on his face when he told me.
Larry Remembers When He Was Poor
Potatoes are for blue-collar people.
Jay Gould was giving a lecture on
“The Depravities Of Man.” The wife
and I were at Lakeland Community
College. Dr. Gould was telling us
about poor people, and their purpose.
I looked over at Jan, said, we were
once very poor. She took my hand.
She squeezed it hard. I knew she
was telling me to hush. Jay kept at it,
the purpose of the lower class
was to do jobs we did not want
to do. At a lower cost. Again, I
looked over to Jan. She squinted,
quiet now, you aren’t poor anymore.
Never Making An Error
She always sat in the back of the room.
Of course, everybody tries to do that.
But she always succeeded. Her teachers
never asked her any questions. Yes, she
would slide by in every class. Get A’s
in gym. She got to college, did the same
thing. Her major. elementary education.
She ended up teaching in the inner city.
She did okay. The kids did okay. Hubby
was happy. They had two kids. Kids did
okay. After 30 yrs. she retired. Got a job
selling women’s clothes at Dillard’s.
Did fine there. Worked thirty years
there. Retired at the age of eighty two.
Worked 30 hours a week at her church.
Just died ten minutes ago in her sleep.
Her hubby had passed 10 yrs. ago. He
was happy. They lived well. Kids got
a load of money. The two were
the only ones who remembered her.