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

"Peak"
by Standard Schaefer

Speak
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
hand

*

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.