Will Staple and John Allen Cann
Monday, Nov. 17 at 7:30 PM
1719 25th Street
Host: Rebecca Morrison
Will Staple‘s work has been translated into Russian, German, and Italian. He has received the Engpol Median International Award for a collection of books. He has read from the coffeehouses of San Francisco to Shakespeare & Company in Paris, and was a featured reader at the Internazionale Percorsi Poesia Festival in Locarno, Switzerland. His book of poems, Luminosita Numinosa, was published in English and Italian. He is a long-time poet teacher with California Poets In the Schools.
Sierra Love Note by Will Staple
Empty high Sierra cabin
one room, table, bench
a note on a nail
by the one window,
“the day you’re due
I rise before dawn
if I know you’ll be here at 4
I’m already happy at noon.”
Such lighthearted tenderness
erotic and trusting
–you love not when you wish
but when you love–
when you’re older,
it’s no different,
it just takes longer
John Allen Cann is a native of California with a B.A. in Theater Arts from Cornell and an M.A. in Creative Writing from San Francisco State University. During the years he lived in Santa Barbara, he hosted the poetry show, “The Unseen Rose,” at KCSB and started Aetheric Press. After moving to Sacramento in 1984, he worked in many of the region’s K-12 schools with his KIDS&WORDS Program. He now instructs English at Cosumnes River College, and teaches a Tuesday evening class on modern poetry, Nobel Omissions, at the Sacramento Poetry Center.
A VISIT TO REMEMBER by John Allen Cann
Orpheus knocked on our back door,
Asking directions;
he wanted to know
Where the new
End of the world was.
He looked like he could use a good meal,
We invited him in;
spring rains had come,
He tracked his muddy sandals
Across the kitchen floor.
Fresh bread
And a bowl of fruit
appeared before him;
It made all of us glad
To see him eat
with such gusto.
“May I sing for you?”
He asked in the silence
we soon found ourselves in.
Everyone around the table
Nodded.
First, he touched the strings of his lyre
And brought all of us
Into a deeper vibratory unity;
then his voice melted
What darkness
Remained between us.
And when we again opened our eyes,
The walls had vanished;
we were in a meadow
Thick with wildflowers,
Every tree in bloom.
Up ahead near the brook,
We could see her
dancing with her bridesmaids;
Down close to the brook,
We could see her dancing,
dancing with her bridesmaids.
