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, April 27, 2013

New Poem, Instruction Manual, for The Mag and Beyond.....

To participate in the lovely Tess Kincaid's Sunday meme The Mag, click here.

Monhegan's Schoolteacher  Jaimie Wyeth 

Instruction Manual

What you look for
isn’t in any book.  It is the song
the body loves to sing

and knows by heart,
where you towel your hair,
nude in winter’s window. 

If you fear
the task at hand, pretend
you’ve unpacked the text,

that the instructions are etched
on your eyelids
when you dream.

Think of it, and the body stirs
in the winter window;

it is not a rubric
but an art--
this bel canto
the body longs to sing.

is here—according
to a winter's worth 
of words, 
he has seen
your alert breasts.

He has the fierce look
of desire:
he is poised there

beyond the window
in a nook of shade.

Be woman, be the song,
close the book.

Let him in.

to the tender entrance
of the sun.

copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2012 


Maureen said...

Lyrical loveliness, Jenne. Especially beautiful concluding stanza.

Maya said...

Delectable comes to mind. <3

Tess Kincaid said...

Bel canto, indeed...lovely write, Jen...