Matt Farley is a queer identifying poet and urban Appalachian activist who is born, raised, and rooted in the Greater Cincinnati area. His work is informed by risk, the liminal, identity, male intimacy, and the mycological. He has been published on poetry.org, in For a Better World 2021: Poems and Drawings on Peace and Justice, and in other places. He is the recipient of the Academy of American Poets Betty J. Abrams Prize. Find him on Instagram @mattfarleywrites.
What past event do you often reflect upon, and how did that event change you?
When I was thirteen, my mother was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. For a year, I watched her withdraw from life, becoming a shadow of the vibrant woman she had once been. Then something extraordinary happened. Despite the chemotherapy, despite her hair falling out and her body weakening, she chose to fight. She got up every day and refused to let a cancer diagnosis dictate how she would live.
Whenever I’m unsure how to face what life throws at me, I think of my mother. She is still fighting — twenty years later — and her resilience continues to shape how I understand courage, endurance, and hope.
How does your work add to the quality of your life?
As a poet, I get to wear many hats. I can be an armchair philosopher, a cultural critic, a queer-identifying theorist, an environmentalist — sometimes all at once. Poetry gives me the freedom to explore ideas both broadly and deeply, to follow my curiosity wherever it leads. That freedom has been profoundly liberating.
My mother always told me to reach for the stars. Poetry gives me a way to do exactly that — to imagine boldly, to question deeply, and to live expansively through language.
Tell us a story you would like to share with the world.
Once, I was in the car with my mom when she accidentally hit a bird. Instead of driving on, she pulled over to the side of the road. She began to sob, then prayed over the small, innocent creature whose life had ended.
I think about that moment often. Maybe that’s the key: in times of grief and struggle, acknowledging our interconnectedness can ground us. It reminds us that even in loss, we are not alone.
Author photo: Courtesy of author
Side bar image: Pixabay/Edar
