As several of the anthology contributors know (as well as its humble editor)—for a few of us have contributed to their pages—Front Porch Republic is a natural home to find kindred spirits who share our commitment to place and community-building. Casey Spinks exemplifies this in his work and in his reflections below; I’m grateful to have found him at FPR and am glad to feature one of his poems in our anthology.
Name: Casey Spinks
Current Location: Waco, TX
Twitter: @CaseySpinks
Bio: Casey Spinks is a doctoral student in theology at Baylor University, in Waco, Texas. He is a native of Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
1. How would you describe your work overall? Do you have other publications you’d like us to highlight?
I’ve written poetry as long as I’ve written theology, but I’m just now beginning to publish the former. I study Søren Kierkegaard, who once wrote about how important it is that one’s written work be superfluous. To that end, readers are welcome to read some of my writing for Front Porch Republic or my theology published in peer-reviewed journals as well—but I hope they won’t find an easy “relevant” connection to my poetry. I write poetry to be superfluous, and to express a joyful gratitude.
2. How does the Mid-South and/or larger Southern region influence your perspective (personally and/or in your writing)?
Because I try to write with a sense of gratitude, that demands gratitude for the place the Lord put me. I don’t think it’s possible to write about “being” or “existence”—the things I try to write about—without the particularity of place. All writing is regional, though hopefully not all of it is regional-ist. Therefore, my poetry is about people, places, and things in my native South Louisiana and the greater South where I now live. Humidity, Spanish moss, incurable religiosity (which is not an insult!), malaise from the onslaught of New South suburbs and a desire to get to the woods, a strange defiant contentment that still pervades Louisiana’s culture—all these things and more influence my writing.
3. What do you wish more people knew about this area?
The New South that began so many years ago continues to uproot everything in its constant cycle of new industrializing, new suburb-building, etc., even as many places within it die. So, the Mid-South experience of today continues to be very disruptive, which does have the benefit of giving those who live there a distinct experience of time and change. But it does also have a moral component. Change is constant, and especially for cities, this change can lead to great futures. But the smaller towns, swamps, and marshlands of south Louisiana are falling into the Gulf as coastal erosion overtakes them. These smaller places are losing their futures as the larger places are gaining theirs. It is sad and wrong that so many insignificant parts of God’s creation in this region are dying, in large part because of the many big and small choices we all—and myself foremost—make to live our lives.