Who: Jazzy Literary Soiree
What: Jazz and readings with authors Sheila O’Connor; Patti Frazee; Maureen Millea Smith; Pamela Carter Joern.
When: Wednesday, March 21st, 7:30 pm.
Where: First Universalist Church (3400 Dupont Ave S, Mpls.), FREE

Who: Deborah Keenan
What: Poetry.
When: Thursday, March 22nd, 7:30 pm.
Where: Weisman Art Museum (U of M), FREE

Who: Vincent Wyckoff
What: The mailman discusses ‘Beware of the Cat and Other Encounters of a Letter Carrier.’
When: Thursday, March 22nd, 7:30 pm.
Where: Lyndale United Church of Christ (810 W 31st St, Mpls.), FREE

Who: Kamau Brathwaite
What: The Carribean poet discusses ‘The Arrivants: A New World Trilogy’
When: Friday, March 23rd, 7 pm
Where: The Loft Literary Center

Who: The Wake
What: Open-myke (yeah, that’s right; take that standard English)
When: Friday, March 23rd, 7 pm.
Where: Starlight café in Dinkytown

Who: Northography Poetry Reading
What: Readers! Featuring: Bryan Thoa Worra; LouAnn Muhm; Dylan Garcia Wahl; Cassandra Labairon; Diana Lundell; Britt Fleming.
When: Saturday, March 24th, 7 pm.
Where: Cahoots Coffee Bar (1562 Selby Ave, St. Paul), FREE

Who: Joe Boyd
What: The author reads from his autobiography, ‘White Bicycles’.
When: Monday, March 26th, 7:30 pm.
Where: Cedar Cultural Center (416 Cedar Ave S, Mpls.), $10

Who: Eavan Boland: My Journey
What: The Irish poet discusses her writing.
When: Tuesday, March 27th, 7:30 pm.
Where: Sundin Music Hall (1531 Hewitt Ave, St. Paul), FREE

a time and a place
a time and a place
a penny saved
a penny earned
a penny earned
if at first you don’t succeed
try try again
try try again
try try again
mind your p’s and q’s
mind your manners
pleases and thank yous
the early bird
catches the worm
catches the worm
the early bird
you’re never fully dressed
without a smile
a smile
smile
smile
silence is golden
and actions speak louder than words
actions speak louder than words
actions speak louder than words
sincerely yours

The body is not a prison
it is a temple;
not a cage from which the soul escapes,
but a holy place built
for sanctification, redemption

on that Day
bone and ash will rise
from graveyards and cisterns,
swirl upward like smoke
re-creation of fingers, palm, wrist
glowing gloriously in light
toe by toe, a foot, a leg
dancing as they rise
a people resurrected

lips sealed from life’s last kiss
open to holy, holy, holy
for they did not feel
the sting of death.

Shook evenly, the burst of petrol

nostrils of children racing

eyes on the back of the back of the back

of the pick-me-up dirt clouds

one shiver one shoulder

I see the grave digging grace of the ambulance chase

On these wounded hills—spider-like

skeletons mashed together from the butt

of rubber heels and dirty paws

of that bobcat wandering.

Sing praise to beaten one

limping around the dirt

an orgasmic coma shot

as machine lies still on back

wheels lulling a spin

spin,

spin.

Engines blaring loud

A spectacle of power

Where are my nachos?

Paws riddle the bark
claws scratch on the back of this leaf
these are not marks meant for you,
tree.
Birds, wings skid along the sky
fly,
cease molting,
longevity.

Cat’s eye felt the rush of the tree
its teeth the leaves
its whiskers the wind
bird the fur flushed back again
evergreen screens hide the screams

of the teeth behind the window pane
eyes waiting for the glass to melt.

—red feather, or maybe the blues.

Cat. Bird. Tree.

The beggar
is starving
but always
clothed.

I sweep the stars, encircling the sky
In trailing fingertips that move the sun
That paper made along with ink and I
While time I slowed to confiscate his run.
Inside this land the winter has prevailed;
My palms press frost into the morning’s rise
And choke the yellow sun until she’s paled,
Dressing the riverbanks in crimson guise.
But still the graying beard of time can tell
That all the painted pages I have made
Are bound and bonded purely to the well
Of ink in your eyes and the love you’ve laid.
So know that summer’s bliss lies in your smile;
To change this world, just stay with me awhile.

Chasing sun on water we glide
on husks of metal across
earth or sky not knowing
which end is up.

Wind slides between shirt
and skin causing
bodies to search for heat,
thigh against thigh.

His profile cuts
horizon, searching
infinite blue as

I watch ripples recede from oar,
wooden, smooth, and slender.

I grab his hand as we slip
through water like glass

I saw the tree and it was knotted and twisted
Its face was hidden from me.
It was twisted,
her body was twisted.
Right around the middle she was twisted.
And she was there.
Rooted and hunched and twisted.
She was rooted and hunched and twisted.
She was winding in her waiting,
growing more twisted,
waiting and growing,
twisted and waiting to release, to let go, to unwind those knots,
to spring to open to fling her hair,
shriveling contortions of brown and green
She waits to spread her branches,
to scream a song of release, to walk uprooted.
Feet entangled in dirt she tilts and toils
to lift her head that’s buried beneath,
buried with eyes closed.
Rooted within her waiting she is holding
knots and twists at a stand still.