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, December 3, 2011

New Poem - DVerse Poetics - Journey to Wells' Market

Posted for today’s “poetics” challenge at Dverse Poets Pub

Journey to Wells’ Market

Guardi amore-  l’sol tace.
Look, my love: the soul is silent
  Dante, Commedia Divina

Some days we would slip the great
thumb of the towering strung-out
claw-flexed cat-woman mater familias
I, instructed to hold my brother’s hand
A few dimes in the other

Crossing Indian School Road
Took us to the graveled shoulder
Of the other side
and we would hurry, into
Wells’ Market, the corner store,
To the stacks of unread
mags gathering dust
In the jumbled windowsill.

I was looking for a hero
So I could go off duty
I was looking for someone Other
with girded loins and unbound hair
Who would spring to life
From the page
And spirit us away

Perhaps even heal
Our mother, restore her
To happiness.

We had never been
To the township of Bucolia,
Only read of it in caricature
In the comics, the Blondie and Dagwood
Fake fights, easy makings up.

In those illuminated newsprint texts
There was some crazed duck
Flying upside down
That made me laugh
And Clark Kent’s stunning
Spandex metamorphosis;

The boy I watched over
Chortled in the corner
At the Roadrunner's spin-out
The coyote falling off a cliff,
And took a few cues from
the cow-licked Menace.

I got the milk and eggs and signed
For them
And we made our choices
I, Superwoman and he
Flintstones, and in the helium
Of laughter we floated lightly
Out of the shop

To the street,
Navigating the onrushing cars
Back into the Divine Comedy
Of the Household, the living epic
With its many radioactive storms
And tests

Where the girl I was re-disguised
Herself as the small-boned heroine 
immune to fire.

copyright Jenne' R. Andrews


Anonymous said...

Hi Jenne, I like this very much; it is a bit different from your norm--more of a straight story--I like both styles very much, but this is very very human and extremely easy to relate to. (The others too are very universal--you know what I mean, I'm sure. )

I love the tightly gripped dimes, and the wish for happier times and places, the human touches of navigating the traffic, and of course the divine comedy.

(I have an old poem I couldn't find today about going to drug store with my dad and brother when my mom was on a bit of a rampage.)

Very lovely. Sad, but with great sweetness, and transcendence. K.

Anonymous said...

This one really great too. I love the laved by night. Of course, that's just a minor detail. The last stanza very poignant. K.

Anonymous said...

some good stuff here like the contrast <> Super"woman" (it's Supergirl) and the Flintstones, and then the radioactive storms and the crazed upside down duck and the girl immune to fire.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Wonderful poem, with particularly wonderful finish. I had a different kind of mother, somewhat less disturbed ,,, but had to hold my little brother's hand going to the corner shop. We were not allowed comic books, so of course did take the chance to have a good look when we were out alone, or over the shoulders of kids at school.

Brian Miller said...

nice jenne...used to hang in similar shops looking for my heroes...helping mama, that got me a bit on the emotions...

I was looking for a hero
So I could go off duty

i feel that weight as well...nice piece.

Claudia said...

love how you weave the two world together here jenne... wondering how many kids have lived in those worlds to escape the one, they were in... i'm one of them as well.. and there were days i hated to enter the real world again.. fine write

Nara Malone said...

I could see the children so clearly and this took me on a journey past their pain and into those parallel worlds stories help us escape into.

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is a life history, a story well-known to many, but most pertinent to the players who lived it. It is a masterpiece, Jenne.

Mama Zen said...

This is really moving. That last line is enough to break your heart.

Sheila Moore said...

the last two stanzas blow me away. wow! (did we live in the same household? ;)

Caty said...

heartfelt reminiscent tale of childhood, very well told.

Margaret said...

Back into the Divine Comedy
Of the Household, the living epic
With its many radioactive storms
And tests

Wow. Powerful. I so want this to be fiction, but you write with too much insight here, I think. If you like adult comics, you MIGHT like my link (I didnt' post in time)

A Fable Twist