THANKS FOR THE GOOD TIMES!  LOVE, V

from MONEY ON IT by Sara Mumolo   TEXT 

from DARK AGE by Jenny Drai   TEXT

HOW MOTHS AND LAMPS REALY WORK by Gillian Hamel    TEXT

JEOPARDY by Jack Morgan    TEXT

Jenny Drai

March 23, 2010

[from Visitors, Cavaliers]


1.

went to the door  : a little thin :

& opened

flax cream light & peeled   : widely open

glass persons who   : not stained

incarnadine inhabit me

:

are not unrelated to memoirs, of passing through an age,

plait-spoke, feverish

_________________________________________

ever-soak this circumspect /

silence-eye

tears you elsewhere like historicity

(forward free the mastiff is loose among the eaves)

emotions of the warfare I grew up upon, if I didn’t

then flit among the wild & unbrackets,

the red stains of flowers & tall grasses

knowing a submerge-ment

resistant of photography memory annals to alleviate a subject

waiting for a vacancy to open

within the framework of this day-lit moon [ impossibly ] on fire–

someone has a lot to answer for the informant

has destroyed the mastiff, the illuminated parchment

we use to keep track,

of the awestruck, the terrifying

brink-root I compose

as to how I disappeared but reappear again

amid the shade of two moon-lit elms–

I’ll meet you later at examples & not assume a plentitude,

a favor upwards from the new wake, the strong

red dream,

narrational

___________
passage of yellow

ribbons tied upon my mental capacity :

is stretched out

& hours of

day-was-light-laid-over

: to a voice I replay my staff

(forward free the mastiff eats out the carcass of a deer)

of some cities

at the walls

take place in fields, in meadows,

of species in the battles & the meadows

viscous, all the names

in white

sap of milkweed pods, put your finger,

the heaving light of butterflies, the sticky

in places.

Are places in the storyboard & divided in dimension.  I am salvaging

the papers we most enduringly require.

Uncanny subset.  Anthropology.


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noname-56Scroll past this months post to read the bios of each of the writers. Thanks so much for logging on +V.

Jenny Drai

January 31, 2009

from DARK AGE

Sophie’s writing about Siggo eating a plum.  He’s still in that fifth century so maybe just some apples from an arbor but hear her out.

The plum is sweetly fragrant.  Flavors swell and burst until he lives against his tongue.  Now she can get his sentence out.  I ought to tell you where you’re from he tells the pit he throws into the wind.

Where you’re going.

Siggo thinks in the orchard.

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HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

January 1, 2009

BACK ROOM LIVE ! SATURDAY NIGHT ! January 31st 2008

noname-72

! SARAH GARRIGAN ! VERONICA CARLOS-LANDA! JENNY DRAI ! 7pm !  Join us for our debut posting!
Coming soon backroomlive.blogspot.com a photo archive of the Back Room Live reading series from Mc Nally’s Irish Pub in Oakland. Also, Thursday January 8th join us live at Book Zoo in Oakland at 7pm w/BRL Editors Choice Edition/ contributors ! Brenda Hillman ! Sara Mumolo ! Barbara Claire Freeman ! Craig Santos Perez ! Hope to see you +V.
Jenny Drai likes to say she was raised by wolves, but really she is the child of librarians, which may or may not be the same thing.  A graduate of the poetry program at Saint Mary’s College of California, her work has appeared in Court Green, Five Fingers Review, and The Tiny as well as other journals.  She has written a novel, John Clare, which awaits publication, and is currently working on a novella, Dark Age, about a fifth century book of laws, a list of names, and a divorced writer with too much time on her hands.  She likes to swim and run and enjoy scotch in a responsible fashion in Oakland, California, but she has also lived in Chicago, Hamburg, and Munich. She works in the home furnishings industry.
Veronica Carlos-Landa is a Mexican-American poet who has lived in California all of her life and never plans to leave. She received her BA from UC Berkeley and her MFA from St. Mary’s College. Vero, as her friends affectionately call her, also teaches, learns, loves, sews, knits, and loves to drink beer.
Sarah Garrigan is a student at the University of California at Berkeley working towards a degree in English. She is currently a Co-Publicity Chair for the Berkeley Poetry Review. After college, she looks forward to living in a box while discovering what exactly one can do with a B.A. in English. She enjoys drinking chai lattes, wandering around San Francisco, and pretending to work on her senior thesis.