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 .

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

It Sucks! And...poem for One Shot Wednesday....

Getting Unpublished

I said it was rejection and it was true although an old owl said 
it was in my mind.   I knew it was true because of how I felt
I felt an explosion in the area of my heart and the winching 
of a deep-sixed Chrysler out of the harbor in my gut. 

Many humpty dumpties sit preening on a wall of faces, straightening
their bowties.  It is spring.  They are self-pleased, having hatched
numerous poems that litter the gutters.  There are too many words
in the gutter and there is no room for the heart. Then a note came

From an editor that said I am throwing off radiation.  Upgrade
to Chernobyl seven.  An editor says in sidestepping the issue
of a book that more people need to be acquainted with my work. 
Upgrade to seven.  Don't call rejection a dove or a butterfly. 

Enjambment sucks.  Once the stars rose, freefell into alignment
for me.  I had a few years of enjambed ascendancy like a nonplussed
queen on an egg timer. Queen of the Humpties.  Timed.  Then I was cooked.

Frankenstein concocts a new bride from his dead old one but as a concocted woman she pines for an equally fabricated man.  Yet in her gut she knows she's been conned and sets herself on fire to prove herself right.

Don't self-immolate, but don't count on the stars.  Trust the gut.  Snap 
the necklace of pearls the man who left you for someone else gave you.  
Throw the diamond ring into the creek.  Throw the old love and the editor 
into the deep end and let them tread water.  Eat their cell phones.  Then deny

That you did anything wrong. Don't let them confiscate your opiates.
I was once kicked in the stomach by a horse.  That's how it feels
to be turned away, to love opium.  Write for yourself, be your own lover, 
don't borrow anyone else's good luck that they call God. Publish your book 

As Leaves of Oaks—use real leaves. Consort with the tramps who live on the irrigation ditch with their old ribby dogs, bulls of the pit.  They get what being cast out is.  Crawl into an old tramp's bedroll.  Be as much yourself as an old tramp; rend your garments. Turn a few tricks but don’t act like a whore.

For a time you will be unpublished and used and useful,  like a road singing in a yellow wood.

April 12, 2011

This poem was written as an imperative catharsis and posted for One Shot Wednesday, the engaging meme of One Stop Poetry. 

Copyright Jenne’ R. Andrews 2011


Brian Miller said...

you know, they will try to make you into who they want you to be, who they think they can market...be yourself, success will find you or it wont...but in the end you will be true...

Alegria Imperial said...

Love it, love it, love it!!! I love how you transfomed the word, 'sucks', into bristling poetry. Your lines leap as flames crackling against brittle skies or those of the mighty who crumple creations their minds cannot sense because they have not known salt. It's true--the word now used is 'decline', as a verb 'to refuse or reject' but as a noun is derogatory as it means, 'a dimunition, a downward slope, a gradual loss of physical and mental faculties'! I'm fueling your rage, am I not? Haha...but I've been there more than a dozen times and that's why I sooo love your poem!

Fireblossom said...

You're right, Jen, I DO like this! anger, contents under pressure! This reads like something that just had to come out, and right away besides.

I love the winching, the Humpties, and especially the fake Bride of Frankenstein. Setting herself on fire! She may be a poet yet.

Timoteo said...

Rejection--in ALL forms--SUCKS ! I think that's why I stopped sending stuff out years ago. Get published...yeah...so I did that...got those contributors copies in the mail and...a strange letdown. What did anybody (besides the editor) think of it? I never knew !

Instant feedback from the internet...cool! And my gut tells me that more people read my poem or short story on a given day now than ever saw what I wrote in the South Dakota Review. And guess what...no rejection !!!

That aside...I like this piece of yours so much, I'm drooling.

G-Man said...

Thats why Blogging is so much fun!!
Unless Blogger rejects you as well...:-(
Thanks for visiting today...
It's an Honour....G-Man

Justin Germino said...

Enjoyed the poem and I am sure similar emotions were invoked for my wife when her cooking books were rejected for publication.

Pete Marshall said...

this is such a full write...and i so get the point...trust me am working with someone on my work at mo!!!..all the best BTW..excellently written

Luke Prater said...

'Deep-sixed Chrysler' .. love that. Very expressive piece, feels like a personal journey. Thanks for sharing it


Anonymous said...

Jenne I LOVE the genius behind your work! Intelligent and sassy and no apologies--brilliant. You really hit the mark. Loved loved loved the last stanza ...a rose in a yellow wood
Fabulous as always and fresh!

Andy said...

I hear you with this one. Nicely done.