Interviewed by Judy Thorn
July 6, 2026

Ash and I sat down in the back room of my workplace for a chat, surrounded by racks of organic cotton shirts imported from Portugal and Spain. I had planned on an email correspondence, but we agreed this was more convenient. I treated the writer to a sparkling water from the mini fridge. She came back a week later, on her way to a wedding, looking for a misplaced hat.

A good interview is an opportunity for play. Do you want to play with me?

How? I mean yes.

We loved having you read at Bloomers. Tell me about receiving attention from strangers. How does it feel? Where do you sense it in your body?

I’d rather read confessional poems to a crowd of strangers than fill up a gas tank. Filling up my gas tank fills me with dread; humiliation excites me.

I thought they filled up your gas tank for you in Oregon.

I don’t think they do that anymore. I just got a car for the first time in six years.

Wow. Bit of a rude awakening.

Yeah.

You’re extraordinarily collaborative. How do you know when you’ve met someone you can create with?

The short answer is, I know a hierophant of literature when I see one.

But since you’re a fan of Mikko [Harvey], I met him when we were both fellows at Vermont Studio Center. I didn’t notice his existence until halfway through the residency when we were toasting our toast concomitantly, and he said he was a poet, and I said something like, “Well, do you like this or that poet…” Talking about the books I love with someone who loves the same books is like crack to me. I get such an adrenaline rush. By the end of the fellowship, Trump had been elected (for the first time) and we had written Skymall. 

Do you have any advice for me personally?

Who was the mystic who said, “All is well, all will be well…”

Julian of Norwich?

Oh my god, I love you. Tell me more. I’m really into saints and mystics right now.

I’m interviewing you, though.

Fine.

How did you end up in Portland? Why not New York? San Francisco? Stockholm?

Why Stockholm?

I just like the sound of it. Stockholm.

OK. Well, maybe I’ll end up in Stockholm. If I do become the first female Asian-American president of the North American Sauna Society, maybe they’ll put me up in Finland or something, and I’ll have one of those saunas that’s in the middle of a lake, and then you dive into the lake and you do cold water swimming, and then I can get into all the restaurants without waiting because I can flash my badge that says “first ever female Asian-American president of the North American Sauna Society.”

I ended up in Portland because I wanted to be close to family. I had a feeling my dad was going to die imminently, and I had three young nieces I wanted to get to know. I love California, but too many people have eating disorders there. It’s bad for my body image. I like how the epitome of good-looking in Portland is kind of disgusting. It’s like, really ugly shoes and pimple patches and greasy hair that’s starting to get crusty… That’s Portland hot. It’s been healing for me after living in the Bay Area and New York City. 

When I lived in New York City, I was briefly the most stylish person on the block. But I don’t have the energy to sift through piles of… This is boring.

What block exactly?

Orchard Street. Having a stylish outfit was like your business card. People would stop you, and then you’d end up collaborating and whatnot.

There you go again collaborating with people.

I love collaborating. Right now I’m collaborating with Nia Musiba again on Worm Slut. Do you know about Worm Slut? There are nineteen issues. But I’m making a bumper sticker. I’m making a couple. I’m gonna make “Worm Slut: I Love My Job” and “New Asian Driver.”

Say bye bye!

Bye bye.

Ash also asked to put the phrase “nun-adjacent” somewhere in the interview.

You can find more relics of Ash Yang-Thompson on her site and Substack. See her read tonight at 7pm with Kiik A.K. at Word Virus Books. Still Worm is available to order from Bateau Press.