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 .

Thursday, January 20, 2011

New: Love Poem-- Jenne' Andrews-- Revised Jan 20

please note substantive revision of poem in preceding post.  xj

“In Due” 

I have played you Brahms
made you laugh at my many follies
fed you vichyssoise 
with leeks and cream 

Now, someone restrings a violin
on the background of time.
Two are rehearsing;
they in their stage right rapture
are in due-- 
together, a la Verdi.

Let us too
pretend that we love each other
for the sake of the comely night,
our old, star-crossed libretto

Come with me;
let us lie down on that dilapidated bed
that was ours
with its water stains on the box spring

You be Otello 
I'll be Desdemona

Not out of the question,
if your hands recall
these full breasts
in quicksilver moonlight

One night.
One for the books
making a starfish of our hands
ripe plums of our mouths
a honeycomb
between us.

copyright Jenne' R. Andrews
All rights reserved


Maureen said...

Lovely, Jenne. I especially like these images: "fierce love in their eyes/caught by a headlight's beam", "making a starfish of our hands/ripe plums of our mouths/ a honeycombed reprieve", and all the music in the poem.

jen revved said...

thanks, Maureen- I suppose a little fantasizing is inevitable...xxxj

Ami Mattison said...

"Pretend that we love each other/ for the sake of the comely night." Just lovely, Jenne'! A love poem, indeed. The sweet, lyrical seduction is just right.

Steve Isaak said...

Classy, classic, literary, excellent.