I’m calling him Wayne not as a matter of disrespect but because he has come to feel familiar to me through his writing. This is not a proper introduction, but, as Wayne says: turn away from the assignment. And yet, it is an obsession he carries with him always, and something he returns to in his work: disgust mingled with erotic curiosity, and an obsession with gender differences, and details, such as stubble. I confessed I like stink: the smell of men, their musk. I turned the recorder off when I thought our interview had finished but we continued to talk-about stink. This dynamic is one we returned to, comfortably, many times while we were talking. We were talking about notebooks-he only fills one side of the page, and especially so since he’s begun what he calls his “trance practice,” toward his latest book of poetry, Pink Trance Notebooks: “I believe in more gestural freedom and prodigality of expenditure,” he says. I turned on my recorder well after Wayne Koestenbaum and I began to talk and I realized we were on topic.
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