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 .

Friday, September 9, 2011

New Poem: Recipe -- for Friday Poetry Fest


“Verde…que te quiero, verde…”

First, harvest autumn tomatoes--
Blanch them, freeze them
And months later,
Pressure front, cloudbursts

These will be on hand,
with your cache' of spices,
comino, oregano, garlic
chicken stock and meat

Then, a trip to the bodega,  
Mariachi blaring from a dusty radio,
bullfights on the television,
chulos making rough talk,  one of them
in the butcher block, one
stocking vegetables;

Talk them in half-idiomatic
Spanish, while you pick out
the longest, thickest
Yes, the delectable
chiles, those waiting
in green dresses,
For quinceanera,  first-prom night

Bring them home
to be blistered under the broiler
Peeled summarily of their skin
Violated for their succulence:

Everything that you are then
will go into the pot, the herbs, 
Bits of blackened casings
the granular salt of  tears.

The pot will tell
Of many imperfections:
Tomatoes unpeeled
Stems of the cilantro:

So that frantic, you will break out
Your blender
And in it all will go,
To make one smooth
Delectable sauce

Then, none of your mistakes will be visible;
Now, it will sit for a day
too potent for words.

copyright Jenne' R. Andrews


Mystic_Mom said...

I'm on my way over, I'll bring the wine! What a totally tasty treat!

Timoteo said...

Violated for my succulence? I beg your pardon !