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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 .

Sunday, December 4, 2011

New Poem: Reading the Galleys for Magpie Tales

 To participate in the great Magpie Tales Meme hosted by poet Tess Kincaid, click here.

Lunch, George Tooker, 1964, Columbus Museum of Art
      
Reading the Galleys

For man walketh in a vain shadow, and
disquieteth himself in vain: he heapeth up
riches, and cannot tell who shall gather them.

Ab Domine  Refugium, Psalm 90.

Les yeux de tous s'attendent à toi,
et tu leur donnes leur nourriture
en son temps.*

At West Publishing on the Mississippi
we girls obediently sat in cubicles
reading the galleys to each other
marking up the copy in winter

The December of the poorly lit
factory of lawbooks.
This was the pre-software era
no one to catch the typos but us.

Each girl was expected to conform
to need nothing until the break
the washing of the hands
the drying of them on the soft white

Towels handed over by the matrons.
But the place was so grimly dark
with the making of money
and leering managers putting

The heat on to read louder, faster
I grew a racing, skipping heart
and the city’s homogeneity
terrified me.  I already felt dwarfed

By mere existence and the skyscrapers
frowning down sent me
into a sleepless tailspin.  Then I saw
I couldn’t make a career

Out of finding mistakes;
still, nearly everybody gets used
to a hybrid world
of concrete and glass: some

Of the girls are menopausal now
eating salads en masse
in the breakroom, selling off shares
on the insider tip, the accusatory

Eyes of All upon the fleeing
Shadow of the bullion-tainted soul.


*The eyes of all wait upon thee
And thou givest them their nourishment
In due season.

In re my use of "bullion."  I don't mean bouillon "broth."  I mean gold.  xj


 




copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2011  All Rights Reserved.

6 comments:

Maureen said...

Like your take on this photo, the use of West Publishing (editors all know this one; it was a competitor when I was at BNA), and the familiarity of the setting. I smile at "bouillon-tainted soul".

Tess Kincaid said...

I love your auto-biographical writes, Jenne...lovely...

Shawna said...

Oh my, I like this line:

"Then I saw
I couldn’t make a career
Out of finding mistakes"

I was an editor for a publishing company years ago, and you are so right about the racing heart and unending deadlines.

Helen said...

What a great interpretation of the art. West Publishing was a corporate travel account my agency tried (in vain) to capture on many occasion.

Ann Grenier said...

So apt for this time of year. "grimly dark
with the making of money" reminds me of Dicken's Christmas Carol. I enjoy the references/quotes you attach to your poems, which make them all the more rich.

Zoe said...

I really like your take on this photo, Jen. I love

Eyes of All upon the fleeing
Shadow of the bullion-tainted soul.

Very well written!

Oh, and I love the lines about the passage of time - menopausal now. Great writing.