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Jenne' Andrews is an American poet. She has three published chapbooks including the recent Blackbirds Dance in the Empire of Love, Finishing Line Press 2013.

A full-length collection, Reunion, Lynx House Press, was published in 1983; after a long hiatus to raise Golden Retrievers in Colorado, recent work has appeared in The Passionate Transitory, Belletrist Coterie, The Adirondack Review and Vox Populi, a journal of culture, politics and poetry published and edited by the august Michael Simms.

A bilingual collection of "Italiana," Bocca, Voce, Delirio, with translations by Lorenzo Luciani, will be released by Finishing Line at the end of 2016 and her latest collection, And Now, the Road, a finalist for the Autumn House prize in 2014, will be released by Salmon Poetry Ltd, Ireland, a highly regarded international house, Jessie Lendennie, Publisher, circa 2017.

Andrews holds the MFA in Creative Writing/Poetry from Colorado State University, is a literary fellow of the National Endowment for the Arts, and was full-time Poet in Residence for the St. Paul Schools from '74-78. She lived in St. Paul from 1971-78 during the first wave of the Twin Cities literary renaissance, and spent the summer of 1973 in Reggio Calabria, Italy.

The poet lives in northern Colorado's Poudre River Valley with her husband, fiction writer Jack Brooks; the couple has recently imported two British Golden Retrievers and expects a litter in June-- see the Ardorgold website for details. Contact: jenneandrews2010@gmail.com .

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

For One Shot Wednesday....

Flight of Fancy

Every day this thing happens here; the mountains
Stir themselves at dusk and then heave themselves
Toward the sky.  Meanwhile
A million tangerines spill from an unseen cart
Over that newly made body.
And then unfurled crepe paper geese come in
With their guttural croaking, a thousand fluttering fans
Escaping the white fingers of the geishas.

I had thought I would wake to see this phenomenon
But I was dreaming that I was the mistress
Of a dictator who brought me on board a ship
He called Megalomania and his pride and joy was
That at cocktail hour, you could stand in your own pool
Of fresh, icy water
about your ankles.
How are you he would boom, trespassing toward you
His moon face leering, the grease
From the canapés on his chin.
How do you like my ponds and waterways?
My child whispered “Is he Idi Amin?”
I clapped my hand over her mouth.
We fled then to a waiting bark
With a tall goddess with sphinx-hair
Standing in the prow.
She said we would go to the bulrushes but perhaps
It would be best to rest for a time
In the marzipan of the moonrise.




Copyright Jenne’ R. Andrews
2010 All rights reserved.  

3 comments:

Maureen said...

An incredible sequence...

Lines I especially like: "a thousand fluttering fans / Escaping the white fingers of the geishas"; "a tall goddess with sphinx-hair"; and "the marzipan of the moonrise". All really wonderful.

Steve Isaak said...

Enjoyable, windy, good flow.

One Stop - The Place For Poets, Writers and Artists said...

some great lines here and some great statements..good to see the use of megalomania...have a great christmas..all the best pete