Eggs Within Eggs

by Will McClelland

Arizona State University

Will McClelland is a bookseller from Tempe, Arizona and a current undergraduate in the Creative Writing program at Arizona State University. He will be graduating in the Fall of 2026. Alongside his creative writing, he is also a book reviewer for Grimdark Magazine. “Eggs Within Eggs” in Quirk is his first publication. 


Cry for the questing head  
of the creeping devil cactus  
who knows living means 
leaving himself behind.  

Cry for clocks, scarred hands who cry 
for peace.  

Cry for the snake 
coiled on the carpet  
on his first lonely night  
in Eden.  

Cry for the stag, headlights that cry 
like sunrise. 

Cry for the hatchling  
furiously swimming upstream  
as he’s swept from his birth waters.  

Cry for wrung-out Ouroboros, boys who cry 
for the love the world called a gag.  

Cry for the question marks 
that boys are taught to hammer flat 
and store in a quiver 
under their tongues.  

Cry for the Nightjar 
who wakes from overdose 
not knowing if it is time  
to sing or to sleep.  

Cry for the sundial 
who saw his son swept away  
by the thin dark wedge  
of his passing.  

Cry for his son, men who do not cry 
while they break the world  
that broke them.  

Cry with your son, let myself cry 
like a robin egg cracking 
on my flat palm: eggs within eggs 

within eggs—some boys 
spend generations breaking 
until they’re born to a palm  
brave enough to be gentle. 


Interview with the Poet

1. What inspired you to start writing poetry? Are there any specific poets or writers that inspire you to write?

My friends have encouraged and inspired me to write more often than professional writers have. I’m extremely lucky to have a wonderful creative community around me at the bookstore. Sharing poetry with my friend James every other Sunday at Cornish Pasty is a huge reason I went back to school to get a Creative Writing degree after leaving school for several years.

Hosting events at the bookstore has also been inspiring; I’ve gotten to meet some of my writing heroes, such as Hanif Abdurraqib, whose creative non-fiction work–especially There is Always This Year–has been influential on my own work, especially since I’ve begun writing more lyric essays. Other writers whose poetry I admire are Sarah Kay and William Brewer. A huge shoutout to all the ASU creative writing faculty who have taught me, as well, including Natalie Diaz, Susan Nguyen, David Martinez, Sarah Viren, and Justin Petropoulos.

2. What is the biggest challenge in your creative process?

Line editing while I write. Engaging my critical, analytical mind too heavily during a first draft really puts the brakes on my writing. Connecting to my intuition helps me get to the deeper emotions below the surface of my thinking. One of my poetry professors encouraged us to be wild in our writing, and since then I try to let that guide my writing.

3. Is there a recurring or central theme to your work?

Grief, recently. There are always new griefs to write about, so I suspect that topic will stick around. My job at a bookstore has been a common entry point to poems and essays, too. Overall, I want to show people that in every moment there is opportunity for profundity, even in such mundane places as a doctor’s waiting room or idle hours at a register.

4. What do you think are important elements in effective, thought-provoking poems?

One element of writing I’m interested in and aspire to is perhaps inexplicable, which is when words deeply affect me before I have any idea what ideas they are expressing. These moments remind me of instrumental music, a favorite band of mine being Hermanos Gutierrez. Their music is emotionally evocative, more so than any music with lyrics, and some poems hit me the same way, such as "Coliseum” by Jericho Brown. Perhaps it is the sounds of the words, my intuitive connections with words and images, or the timing of the words, but I love those moments that go beyond meaning.

5. What role do you think poetry plays in our society today?

As to society on a large scale… I don’t know. However, poetry is a wonderful part of the small communities I participate in. Sharing and responding to poetry can teach us courage and humility. At the bookstore, I’ve seen poetry gather people together to share joy, rage, grief, hope, and everything in between. Oftentimes, the content of the poems isn’t what’s most important. It’s about people joining in community for a night.

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