WELCOME! BENVENUTI!

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 .

Saturday, November 12, 2011

New Poem: Consider Our Nature

Consider Our Nature

Consider the tigress
lifting her head a final time
in a pool of blood
she still has her fangs
and rises

To the hunter's mud-creased throat
whose hewn spear then falls
as he bleeds out beside her

Consider that nature
needs this
And is glad of it.

And that the cubs, despite 
their dearth
were taught in the lair
to use their eyes
like roving beacons,
to scent the air
and go on their bellies
under the low moon

To fell the wet zebra foal
in the shadowy grass
yowling then in rapture.
even as they feed

ii

Consider the tide
how it comforts with its sighs
and then rolls in
pulling humans and their chaff
lungs bursting and screams
choked off, to forever's depths


That one great white swims by
Sated, another takes a swimmer
by the head
down into a green green lair


Consider the plumes of blood
the question marks of filtered ash
ascendant in the world
as we speak

And how quickly love dies
with a few dark words
And our exulting mammalian
and reptilian natures

That our civility is a veneer
and when we are wounded

we rise from the pool of blood
something’s jugular
in our sights

iii

We rise from the pool of hatred
that was love before it soured
like the milk of a scarred soul

I will love you
until you profane my trust
I will open to you
until you turn your face to the dark
or I feel your rejecting look
in the small of my back

Or you break down in front of me
shattering into pieces
a mother in ruins

Or you sleep with another woman
and I baptize you from my flask of brandy
where you stand naked
in the light of her doorway
in the deeps of winter

 
iv

Sylvia said she ate men
like air
we devour ourselves
we chew on our own angel feet
we set our own wings on fire

And swoop down in murderous need
on our own
and then in a moment
we change back:

This is why human kind
 is deadly
and damned..
--

2 comments:

Yousei Hime said...

Each stanza builds and feeds the next, with a powerful, dark conclusion. Wonderful to read.

Sheila Moore said...

now, you know I hate it when you write about me ;)

Seriously though, so many lines resonate - every single one in part iii and also in part iv except for the last three which I disagree with.

In my opinion, part iv stanza two cannot be generalized to all of human kind but only to certain kinds (and I can say that because I am that kind - although working on changing it :)

Really enoyed this one, jenne.