Franklin Abbott’s newest book, “My Ordinary Life,” is more than a collection of story poems. It’s a quiet reckoning with the extraordinary weight of recent years. With a gentle yet unflinching voice, Abbott captures the arc of the COVID-19 pandemic as it unfolded: the eerie stillness of lockdown, the bewildering ebb and flow of hope and fear, and the intimate, often invisible toll it took on individuals and communities.
But woven through that shared global trauma are deeply personal threads: the deaths of Abbott’s parents, the realities of aging, the ache of isolation, and the unexpected gifts found in slowing down.
In “My Ordinary Life,” the poet-therapist’s lifelong commitment to introspection and healing is on full display. Small, seemingly mundane moments –birds and frogs in his garden, the loyal presence of cats, or a fleeting exchange with a grocery clerk– become vessels for grief, gratitude, and grounded wisdom. Abbott’s poems do not shy away from pain, but they do offer pathways toward resilience and recovery. In his world, trauma is not denied but tenderly acknowledged, affirmed, and allowed to breathe.
Raised and educated in the Deep South, Abbott has called Atlanta home since the 1970s, where he maintained a psychotherapy practice for over four decades. His work spanned three national crises –the AIDS epidemic, 9/11, and the COVID-19 pandemic– and he specialized in medical trauma, spiritual inquiry, and group healing.
A pioneer in the pro-feminist men’s movement and early Radical Faerie circles, Abbott’s influence reaches far beyond the therapy room or the page. He has edited anthologies on masculinity, served as poetry editor for “RFD” and “Changing Men” magazines, and founded the Atlanta Queer Literary Festival.
Abbott’s newest collection is his third volume of poetry, following “Mortal Love” and “Pink Zinnia,” and arrives alongside a rich legacy of advocacy, music, and cultural exploration.
Whether composing music from the words of Rumi and Shakespeare, interviewing civil rights icons and queer artists, or tracing spiritual truths across continents, Abbott is always listening –closely, reverently– to the human heart.
As he returns from India with fresh stories and perspectives, Abbott reminds us that even amid loss and uncertainty, there is wonder to be found in the ordinary. And in that, perhaps, something like healing.
“harry and John” (from “My Ordinary Life”)
John was sweet
to Harry’s sour, salt
to Harry’s pepper taken together
they were quite a dish
in memory of Harry Hay and John Burnside
Michele Karlsberg: How did your training as a therapist shape the way you approached the emotional content in this collection?
Franklin Abbott: When I retired this past August, I had been a practicing psychotherapist for over forty years. Authenticity is essential to that work both for the therapist and the person receiving therapy. It has permeated my life and relationships even extending to my biological family with whom I have had challenges. It has also been a doorway into deeper and more immediate experience. Authenticity is central to my writing. I am always trying to tell myself the truth as I experience it.
You capture small, quiet moments with deep reverence. What draws you to the “ordinary” as poetic material?
One of the gifts of the lockdown was slowing down. Like many of us who live in cities and have busy lives, I kept a very busy schedule between my psychotherapy practice, my literary endeavors and my community activism. All of a sudden, I could not see people in person, schedule or attend events, a plan for outside recreation. I had to sit with myself. I live with no other humans and have two feline companions. My community shrank and I could hear the clock tick. Little things like the sound of birds and frogs in my garden, the food I cooked, the small, limited interactions I had with others, took on much more salience. I also had time for reverie.
Many people struggled to find meaning during the pandemic. What role did writing play in your own process of coping and reflection?
I am an existentialist by nature. I believe we create our own meaning, and writing is one way I have worked on this for my whole adult life. I have a wide circle of friends. I had pen pals way back before the Internet and I have cultivated many relationships through social media. Sharing my poems and stories with my friends and hearing their stories and poems was very meaningful to me. I certainly didn’t share everything with everyone, but if something felt resonant to me, I knew it would touch others.
What does healing mean to you now, after walking through so many eras of trauma?
We grieve our way back into wholeness. That is what heals us. We have to recognize our loss, feel the sorrow and when we can, to the degree we can, let it go. Many of us lost loved ones in each of these situations. We lost opportunities and we lost our sense of safety. There is so much to grieve. If it takes a year to grieve a loss, how are we to grieve multiple losses that pile on top of each other? Community is so important here. We gain strength and courage through grieving together. We give and receive healing this way.
You recently returned from readings in India and have long explored global spirituality. What did that journey add to your sense of creative or emotional renewal?
This was my third trip to India and I was fortunate to participate in poetry readings in New Delhi and Chandigarh coordinated by my friend Nirupana Dutt. Niru is a renowned journalist and poet and she assembled two groups of extraordinary writers and we read to each other. Some of the other writers read in Hindi and Punjabi. I felt very honored to be included and was moved by what I heard even if it was only the music of a language I didn’t understand.
I am not a typical pilgrim. I did not stay in ashrams or study with a guru. India was my guru. I tease and say my molecules were rearranged, but that is certainly true from a creative perspective. Multi-cultural India is insistent in its being. It is both ancient and fast-changing. There is no way to understand it except to experience it. Every day was a page from a sacred book that was writing itself in the moment.
What conversations are you hoping “My Ordinary Life” will spark for readers?
How do we continue our work on healing ourselves, each other and our society? What are the ordinary things that bring us meaning and joy? How does loss deepen our humanity? How are the circles of our lives overlapping and interconnected? The great Indian sage Rabindranath Tagore wrote, “The centre is still and silent in the heart of an eternal dance of circles.” How do we find that still and silent place inside ourselves?
https://tenminutemuse.wordpress.com/
https://www.instagram.com/franklin.abbott/
Michele Karlsberg Marketing and Management specializes in publicity and marketing for the LGBTQ+ community. This year, Karlsberg celebrates 36 years of successful campaigns.
http://www.michelekarlsberg.com
Never miss a story! Keep up to date on the latest news, arts, politics, entertainment, and nightlife.
Sign up for the Bay Area Reporter's free weekday email newsletter. You'll receive our newsletters and special offers from our community partners.
Support California's largest LGBTQ newsroom. Your one-time, monthly, or annual contribution advocates for LGBTQ communities. Amplify a trusted voice providing news, information, and cultural coverage to all members of our community, regardless of their ability to pay. Donate today!
