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 .

Monday, February 7, 2011

Poem for Monday

A Litany for the Pig

One night off in the dark to the north
I heard a pig brought out from the barn
Then there was a shot
and everything was quiet

On another night
someone's new calves were lowing
for milk next door
they had been taken with wet cords
from their mothers

I couldn't save them
but later that spring I lay down in the barn
with a goat trapped in labor 

Working my hand and arm
into her, sorting out legs and heads
until her triplet does danced and leapt
in the beam of my flashlight

A hot day, in late summer
my dog had fifteen puppies
and no colostrum
and I had to still them all one by one
in a tray of warm water

So it is that we go digging in the yard crying
for our mothers and mad
with the loss of our young

Would you save me
if you could
Would I somehow
lactate on demand, press my breast
to your mouth
my mouth
to your swelling breast

Are we not among the starving
for that cloudy light that pours
from a heaven we can only imagine

Can you not hear
The orphaned and abandoned
and bereft
Crying out unabated
From the rim of the world

copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2011
All rights deserved....


Ami Mattison said...

Wow, Jenne'! The image of women saving one another--"my breast to your mouth, my mouth to your swelling breast" is not simply provocative but it raises a significant question: Will we, can we save one another? And the ending is just excellent.

moondustwriter said...

Thanks for your input at One Stop today
. would love to talk to you my email - moondustwriter@gmail.com