Wednesday, May 8, 2013

MFA/MA Thesis Reading, May 16













::: SFSU MFA/MA Thesis Reading :::

Place: The Art Gallery at Cesar Chavez Student Center, San Francisco State University

Day: May 16, 2013
Time: 5pm
Free: Any and all are welcome!

VelRo, Wordsmith, and The Art Gallery are teaming up to present an awesome cast of graduating MFA/MA Prose writers, Poets, and Playwrights. Please join us Thursday in The Art Gallery in the Cesar Chavez Student Center.

Readers include: Jill Tomasetti, Mariama Lockington, Stepanie Doeing, and Susan Calvillo (me!)

Poetry Reading: Navigating the underCurrents, May 15

What: Poetry Reading at SOMArts: Navigating the underCurrents
When: Wednesday, May 15, 7–8:30pm
Where: 934 Brannan St. (between 8th & 9th)
How Much: Free admission.

POETS INCLUDE: 
Amy K. Bell, Susan Calvillo, Ploy Pirapokin, Shobha Rao and more!

Come see us perform original poems inspired by artworks in the visual art exhibition "underCurrents & the Quest for Space," presented by the Asian American Women Artists Association (AAWAA) and Asian Pacific Islander Cultural Center (APICC). This multi-media, multi-disciplinary arts exhibition aims to identify and contemplate the political implications of what lies below the surface, while exploring possibilities to move beyond, reinventing history and artistically predicting an unrestrained future. 

For more information please visit http://www.somarts.org/undercurrentspoetry/

Handmade Notepads

"The Great Wave" + Notepad = The Crash Pad

Notepad in four panels of Clouret Bouchel's "Passing Through"

Notepad with cover image: Janice Lessman-Moss's #305-703



An Excerpt from my Grocery List in lieu of participating in "Poetry Month"



This year I decided not to participate in the poem-a-day challenge for Poetry Month. Because every month has been poetry month for me for the last three years, and forcing myself to write under quantifiable constraints always produces the worst poetry from me. That said, without that pressure, I somehow woke at 6am on a sunny morning in San Francisco with the intense urge to put something down. The only paper within my reach was my grocery list. Here's a little bit of what happened that day...





—Three Excerpts from my Grocery List—

I eat the carousel in my sleep. Horse flesh carries the never-ending pipe organ of whinnies. It is not a sound that subtitles protect. My unborn child will emerge in a society too lazy for words. Her imagination will only be as wide as a movie screen. While my innerchild’s imagination will have the depth of a page. Locked in a book. Every word a hyperlink. Mental. Popping up everywhere before its time. Like a purple gluestick. Twisting in and out. Inside a temple. Outside a theme park. The water I sip in sleep tastes sweeter than holy water.






“I need to add something to my grocery list,” I tell the time traveler. He warns me not to write the secrets of the universe. I will alter the space-time continuum. The first thing I do when I wake up is use the toilet. When I crawl back in bed I find an uncapped pen and the words cadavers galloping into history under my pillow, still warm.








When the toast catches fire, it’s hard to look away. Even when knowing a hundred tons of meteoroids will hit the Earth’s atmosphere today. This happens daily. There’s an art to juggling fire. You put as much thought into it as lightning does to striking. There is a meteoroid as small as the strawberry seeds you roll on your tongue. There is a planet composed entirely of streams of lightning.