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Professor Jenne' Rodey Andrews, M.F.A., is a highly regarded American poet, critic and memoirist. Recent work has appeared in former Autumn House Publisher Michael Simms' Vox Populi (over fifteen poems) The Passionate Transitory, Belletrist Coterie, The Adirondack Review and elsewhere.

Andrews' current ms of poetry Beautiful Dust was a finalist for the 2014 Autumn House and she recently withdrew the work from Salmon Ltd, Ireland to protest unmoderated bashing of American writers by Irish writers on the press's social media pages.

Her most recent collection, Blackbirds Dance in the Empire of Love, lauded by Robert Bly and endorsed by poets Jim Moore, Dawn Potter and Patricia Kirkpatrick, appeared from Finishing Line Press 2013. A booklength collection Beautiful Dust was 2014 finalist for the Autumn House Press Poetry Prize and solicited by Salmon Press, Ireland. Turning on work set in the West and her native Southwest the collection is under submission to 2019 publication prizes.

Andrews is currently hard at work on two new memoirs: The Shame Garden: A Woman Writes of Isolation, Despair and Self-Redemption, which in intensely wrought and imagistic prose poetry chronicles the anatomy of shame; it is the poet's late-in-life tour d'force, sending the reader through Dante's circles of hell, the sewers of Paris ala Les Mis, mano a mano confrontations with the Alien mater familias, fusing literary and vintage cinematic works in an elliptical dance with human history and experience of being Other. The poet has no idea of what will become of this work but hopes it finds a home as memoir with a small press.

A four part interview with Andrews went live at poet Maureen Doallas's blog Writing without Paper in 2010.

Other collections include the full-length Reunion, Lynx House Press, The Dark Animal of Liberty, Leaping Mountain Press, and In Pursuit of the Family, edited and published by Robert Bly and the Minnesota Writers Publishing House.

Her work has been anthologized in Heartland II, Northern Illinois University Press, 25 Minnesota Vols. I and II, Wingbone: An Anthology of Colorado Poetry, Women Poets of the Twin Cities, Oil and Water and Other Things that Don't Mix, and elsewhere.

Essays have appeared in MPR's Magazine, The Colorado Review, The Twin Falls Times News, and miscellaneous journals.

IIt is Prof. Andrews' belief that one's collection of poetry must be judged on the quality of its craft, voice, and language, not its themes.


With Mr. Bly the memoirist Patricia Hampl wrote a forward to her first collection and is considered the "mother" of the modern American memoir although she arguably shares this title with Mary Karr for Karr's The Liar's Club. Andrews mentored Karr in Minneapolis when the former was circa 19.

Professor Andrews has had an illustrious teaching career at Colorado State University and the University of Colorado where she taught prelaw students in the making of argument and the issues-oriented seminar The American West. She was the highest rated instructor in the University Writing program during her tenure at Boulder.

Currently Professor Andrews writes daily at age 70, having been rendered housebound in 2007 in a fall from a horse, at home with her lover and companion of thirty years the fiction writer Jack Brooks, ten new poems a month, and is working on an additional memoir about her pioneer roots, "Territory Fever: The Story of an Albuquerque Family," posted as chapters are finished to Loquaciously Yours where the poet has produced over 450 essays in the past decade on a variety of topics as well as book reviews. Upcoming: a review of Ethna McKiernan's new Salmon Collection.

Ms. Andrews is also a Civil Rights Advocate advocating in 2019 for the civil rights of the poet Ping Wang who recently won the AWP Award for Memoir.

In 2015, after a long battle, Andrews extracted her MFA in Creative Writing/Poetry from Colorado State University, begun and finished in the 80's, self-advocating under the Americans with Disabilities Act. In fact Andrews was instrumental in the Colorado Commission on Higher Education's approval of the MFA at CSU.

She is a literary fellow of the National Endowment for the Arts, the Minnesota Arts Board Fellowship, was short-listed for a Bush Foundation Fellowship, 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, one of the first poets to inaugurate The Loft Literary Center, co-founding Women Poets of the Twin Cities which as noted boosted the careers of Mary Karr, Ethna McKiernan and others, and spent the summer of 1973 in Reggio Calabria, Italy which gave rise to the "voluptuous prose-poetry" memoir Nightfall in Verona posted in entirety here, designated by arts maven and former friend Caroline Marshall of NPR The Writer Reads as "fabulous."

Circa 2010 Andrews also founded a poetry group on She Writes which included Dawn Potter, Katha Pollock and other noteworthy writers, and supported the work of Meg Waite Clayton, fiction writer in addition to mentoring a number of other up and coming writers.

There is no way to estimate the influence on the lives and work of the some 12,000 students k-12 she met and encouraged in the seventies, but the poet James Tolan has attributed his career to her work as it was anthologized in Heartland II, Lucien Stryk, Editor. Professor Stryk read the title poem of In Pursuit of the Family on NPR.

As noted the poet lives in northern Colorado's Poudre River Valley with her husband, fiction writer Jack Brooks; the couple's daily life is centered around writing and enjoying their beautiful imported Golden Retrievers;-- see the Ardorgold website for details. Contact: jenneandrews2010@gmail.com.

Signed copies of the Blackbirds Dance collection, endorsed by James Moore, Patricia Kirkpatrick and Dawn Potter, are available from the poet. She posts new work below and is available for mentorship and virtual readings via Skype.

She is happy to critique ms. of poetry, fiction and memoir for a small fee.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Poem for One Shot Wednesday

Song to My Unborn Child

“As the skull come forward
As the ghost ship
Of the cranium, floating
In its newborn ferocity, forces through,
We are in no doubt; the helm
Of death and the helm of life
Are the same, each craving light.”
    Tess Gallagher – Dear Ghosts

And I never knew the small ghost-ship
Of your skull or felt its hardening
High up, in the sanctuary of my ribs

I needed to be emptied of you
As palest sanguine water, or some 
Common effluvium, quickly
Before I could conjure your eyes
For there to be no remnant
Even, of what you might have been
To me and I to you

And although I was weeping
When the scalpels were prepared
on the blank blue sky of paper cloth
And the doctor shook his head
I gave the thumbs up

And as I faded, you were swept from me.

I woke, still and forlorn to myself
Like driftwood
A nurse peered around the corner
Like an owl
A glass of water in her hand

Are you awake?
No, I said.
I am the sea.

She checked the line of salt water
Into my veins
Have you made me a mermaid
I asked her
Am I in the deeps

And then I remembered
My pentothal dream
I was a dolphin, calving
In the gloom and depths of coral
You fighting your way from me


Both of us heaving ourselves
To the surface
Your mouth relentlessly searching
Nose bumping along my belly
Then you locking on
Lashing your tail in jubilation.

This is what I missed
When I told the rose I could not
Let it bloom


Tearing its dark red petals loose
One by one
Until the baby-skull of its hip
Radiated a hungry light
From the middle of the flower.











All Words Copyrighted to Jenne' Andrews 2011



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7 comments:

Brian Miller said...

wow...you made me cry...great imagery and powerful stir of the emotions...

Anonymous said...

Fierce, unwavering, ultimately radiant. The return-to-sea metaphor for the emptying of the womb was really good. Did you know that Romans often topped grave-stones with cupidon, children riding dolphins? Something about that image gives the sense of eternal youth, the fluid liquid freedom the unborn child now sports in. And the speaker is mother to that, delivered too to that sea. Loved it. - Brendan

Alegria Imperial said...

Of this I'm convinced--only you can write a poem such as this. Only you can conjure images that swirl in the depths of seas, the firmaments invisible from the blue dot where man stares, agape.

I love how you decribe the woman as the sea, a dolphin "...calving in the gloom.." But most of all, I love that last stanza on the rose hip you likened to a 'baby-skull', in which is embedded the heart of the rose.

Wow!!! Thank you, Jen!

Jenne' R. Andrews said...

thanks very much, each of you-- obviously a write that has taken eons to surface-- i'll look for the cupidon..thanks for that one, Brendan; Brian, thanks, Ali, mille gracias--xxj

hedgewitch said...

Incredible imagery. Just when one thinks that every ocean metaphor has been played out, a new one is birthed, very fittingly here in this poem of birth, oceanic loss and mourning...but some comfort perhaps that even the most fragrant rose has its thorn, and rose hips can be the bitterest fruit.

Jenne' R. Andrews said...

thanks-- HW-- piece on Fireblossom will go up this weekend--xxxj

Cathy said...

Wow. This poem has me shivering, so sad, especially this: When I told the rose I could not/Let it bloom...