Editor's note: When I first read this poem, I knew I wanted to publish it, because it delivered on so many of the elements that I find myself desiring out of encounters with poetry: startling imagery, fresh language, interaction with the natural world, brief contemplations on mortality, and an ending that makes you go ahhhh. I also enjoy the strong sense of place, and the feeling that the speaker isn't taking himself too seriously, albeit some of the serious thoughts that find their home in this poem. Keep reading to here from Dylan about the process of writing it.
How did you come up with the title? I wanted something longer that embeds you into the scene and what I have seen before the poem begins.
What can you tell us about the inception of this piece? I saw a moon jellyfish at the beach and thought it was a piece of underwear, so I started thinking how the two conceits could fit together.
If we could lift up the log of this piece, what would we see there? You’d definitely see me at the beach with my phone notes out, poking at this jellyfish and trying to explain why it was evoking a response in me. Eventually, I figured out how to explore that feeling so I threw the jellyfish back, but it was probably dead anyway.
If this piece were a small forest creature, what kind of small forest creature would it be? Why? It would probably be a penguin because it feels a little out of place and sometimes goes through divorce.
Is there anything else you would love for readers to know about this piece? Thanks for giving it a chance! See you in a fish tank near you.
Read "moon jellyfish…" in its entirety here.
Lifting Up the Log is an ongoing series designed to indulge our love for the story behind the story, as well as to give our beloved contributors an additional way to showcase the writing they have shared here.