Jeff Knorr, Albert Garcia and Ann Wehrman
Monday, Oct. 1, 2012 at 7:30 PM
1719 25th Street
Host: Bob Stanley
Jeff Knorr is the author of the three books of poetry, The Third Body (Cherry Grove Collections), Keeper (Mammoth Books), and Standing Up to the Day (Pecan Grove Press). His other works include Mooring Against the Tide: Writing Poetry and Fiction (Prentice Hall); the anthology, A Writer’s Country (Prentice Hall); and The River Sings: An Introduction to Poetry (Prentice Hall). His poetry and essays have appeared in numerous literary journals and anthologies including Chelsea, Connecticut Review, The Journal, North American Review, Red Rock Review, Barrow Street, and Like Thunder: Poets Respond to Violence in America (University of Iowa, 2002).
Jeff has edited, judged, and been a visiting writer for various conferences and festivals. He was the founding co-editor and poetry editor of the Clackamas Literary Review. He has also been an invited judge for contests such as the DeNovo First Book Contest, the Willamette Award in Poetry and the Red Rock Poetry Award. He has appeared as a visiting writer at such venues and festivals as Wordstock, University of Pennsylvania’s Kelly Writer’s House, The Des Moines Festival of Literary Arts, and CSU Sacramento’s Summer Writers Conference. He currently directs the River City Writer’s Series at Sacramento City College. Jeff has been the Chair of the English department at Sacramento City College and he has also served on the Sacramento County Office of Education Arts Advisory Board.
Jeff Knorr lives in Sacramento, California and is Professor of literature and creative writing at Sacramento City College.
First Spring Fishing
The Walker River is running cold enough that even
the big German Brown trout move dumbly as cattle.
The sun is baking the wild sage into a pungent
oily breeze that keeps me from staying warm today.
What, besides the blood inside me, will vanish if my body
turns to ashes and drifts to the moon?
The birds keep the afternoon humming along
like the shiny Buick’s radio running down hwy 395.
The river bends below me and slows into an emerald slick
before dropping down the canyon on its run to Nevada.
There is a coyote running inside me I cannot find;
it bothers me that I don’t know why he is here.
All day I will fight the wind looking for lost lovers and
my grandfather who taught me to sling flies.
By dusk, the moon will watch us, the new season
so worn into me that my ears hiss like the tumbling water
with the distant memory of snow and death and so many goodbyes.
Albert Garcia has published two books of poems, Rainshadow (Copper Beech Press) and Skunk Talk (Bear Star Press) as well as a textbook, Digging In: Literature for Developing Writers (Prentice Hall). His poems have appeared in journals such as Prairie Schooner, Willow Springs, North American Review, and others. Before beginning a career in community colleges, Albert earned an MFA from University of Montana. After that he taught composition, literature, and creative writing for 18 years, first at College of the Sequoias and then at Sacramento City College, where he now serves as dean of the Language and Literature Division.
August Morning
It’s ripe, the melon
by our sink. Yellow,
bee-bitten, soft, it perfumes
the house too sweetly.
At five I wake, the air
mournful in its quiet.
My wife’s eyes swim calmly
under their lids, her mouth and jaw
relaxed, different.
What is happening in the silence
of this house? Curtains
hang heavily from their rods.
Ficus leaves tremble
at my footsteps. Yet
the colors outside are perfect–
orange geranium, blue lobelia.
I wander from room to room
like a man in a museum:
wife, children, books, flowers,
melon. Such still air. Soon
the mid-morning breeze will float in
like tepid water, then hot.
How do I start this day,
I who am unsure
of how my life has happened
or how to proceed
amid this warm and steady sweetness?
Ann Wehrman recently completed a MA in English (Creative Writing/Poetry) and Second BA in Music (Flute), both at CSU, Sacramento, and she now teaches English at American River College, University of Phoenix, and Ashford University. Ann’s writing has been honored by numerous awards, including five Bazzanella Awards (2002-2006), the Literary Insight Award (2003), and the Jodie Stutz Award for Poetry (2001). Ann served as Poetry Co-Editor of Calaveras Station Literary Journal at CSU, Sacramento (2008-2010). Her writing has appeared in print and online journals including Poetry Now, Sacramento News & Review, Tule Review, The Mountain Astrologer, Medusa’s Kitchen, The Ophidian, Rattlesnake Review, Toyon, Cosumnes River Journal, and Calaveras Station Literary Journal. Rattlesnake Press published Ann’s broadside, Notes from the Ivory Tower, in 2007 and her chapbook, Inside (love poems), in 2011.
Earth Goddess
for my sister, Jane
I wouldn’t have known it from strolling by
Jane’s humble, rented duplex
building shared with a young gay couple
enter through the front, screen door
rub my shin against Jane’s sinuous cat
trail towards the kitchen
past bundled lavender in glasses
past the white deer skull on the credenza
next to her un-strung, standing harp
walk past shelves with her vitamins, big jar of
Taster’s Choice above the gas range—
but she’s still not here
push open the back door, and Jane’s world explodes
in my face, long driveway overgrown with grass
hollyhocks and lemon verbena in tall sheaves
nodding, commingling
growing like beanstalks up to the sky
further back, the yard runs riot
vegetables, flowers, all fruits of the earth
kindled to life by her magic
Jane reaches and strains, fills the bird feeder
scolds bold, greedy Magpies who stalk around
with white tuxedo chests
she smiles at me
eyes crinkling in the sun
her thirty years seeming young
who knew then that in just a few more years,
she would be gone
