Information about the Desert City Poetry Series, contemporary poetry & poetics, and poetry readings & events in central North Carolina.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

The Desert in January: Bi-lingual and Bi-loving It

Please spread far and wide.........

Who: Standard Schaefer, author of the forthcoming
Water & Power and Nova, 1999 National Poetry Series Selection, freelance journalist, former babysitter of Twinkles and Turquoise, will make you love him.

Who: Marcos Canteli, author of
Enjambre and Su Sombrio the winner of Spain's Ciudad de Burgos award, current Duke University graduate student, newlywed, taught Dan Flavin everything he knows.

Who: Rachel Price, translator of Marcos Canteli's poems, Duke graduate student, scholar w/ flavor, sang "You Ain't Nothing But A Hound Dog" on Stein's 90th birthday.

What: Desert City Poetry Series, Spanish-English Poetry reading, two languages are better than one.

When: This Saturday, January 15th, 8:00pm, 2005.

Where: Internationalist Books, 405 W. Franklin Street, Chapel Hill, NC.

Why: "Too much agreement ... kills the chat" "when / arrival was return / finding the finest / shortcut"

See you there.....

Next Month: February 19th: 2004 National Book Award Finalist Cole Swensen with Chris Vitiello

*Internationalist Books

*Standard Schaefer

*Marcos Canteli

*Rachel Price

Contact the DCPS: Ken Rumble, director: rumblek at bellsouth dot net

by Standard Schaefer

no, smoke

but I appraoch as an equal,
three miles, all mountain

set on devouring
if not the setting, then certain accommodations

modestly burnt off--

the marine layer
and the alleged force of beautiful things

a visual discourse suppressed by the frivolous
refolds as geological upheaval

voiciferous shafts of light above all

a burdened archipelago
of bad options and enthusiasm

not quite wavering between not quite nowhere

and not quite with nowhere left to go

from "Morning: Hintz Road"
by Marcos Canteli, translated by Rachel Price

or that moment among
the snow
fording the depth in its hardness
the heart deepened
under the highbeams, as did
a wound in the absence of that


a traffic
of images that would come to be
real not here but on
their way, doubling
that time
when the real perhaps may be only
that time


and the tang of innocent animals skins
decomposing, nor
will the reek remain

this last heat knowing all the same that in
some sense something human they have


when the traversed
takes root


in any event
the warmth
was already a sediment, sitting

there or in the form
of saliva skin of hospital a
very simple emotion
from inside


or this boy
who in hugging the tree trunk carries
us off
everything he knows.


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