[Local events] Reminder: Janet Holmes/Kate Greenstreet, Monday 3/19

David Abel passages at rdrop.com
Thu Mar 15 23:59:17 PST 2007

Spare Room presents

Janet Holmes

Kate Greenstreet

Monday, March 19th, 7:30 pm
Concordia Coffee House
2909 NE Alberta

$5 suggested donation

spareroom at flim.com

Upcoming readings

(please note: readings this spring take place in two different venues)

Sun. 3/25 Mark Wallace/K. Lorraine Graham New American Art Union

Wed. 4/4 Corinne Fitzpatrick/tba Concordia Coffee House
Sun. 4/22 Susanne Dyckman/Rob Schlegel New American Art Union
Thurs. 4/26 Charles Alexander/tba tba

Sat. 5/12 Wig magazine pub. party w/Kit Robinson, Tim Shaner, et al. tba
Sun. 5/20 Rachel Zolf/Elizabeth Treadwell New American Art Union


Janet Holmes is author of F2F from University of Notre Dame Press, her
fourth book. She is editor of Ahsahta Press and teaches in the MFA program
at Boise State University.

Kate Greenstreet is the author of case sensitive (Ahsahta Press, 2006)
and Learning the Language (Etherdome Press, 2005). Visit her online
at kickingwind.com.



Saying /writing
You are the only one I can talk to/

Hearing /reading
And you are the only one I can talk to/

You are not giggling under the tablecloth you are two adults sitting at
expensive computers touch-typing (oh! yes) resting your index fingers on
the F and the J waiting for the incoming ping of the instanter message
like a starting gun

gd 2 c u again

your form is never more than an extension of such content

no one sees you

and no one sees you

doing it

-- Janet Holmes


Watching a movie in which I’m in a hospital, being experimented on. They 
tell me it’s like a dream (my idea, that I’m being experimented 
on)—that, really, I’m blindfolded.

The blindfold is so light, they say I can’t feel it. (This is part of 
the treatment.) But I go to the mirror and scream: “I can see myself!”

The doctor says yeah, that’s a funny thing.
How you think you can see.

Where there is injury
Where there is doubt
I am melting, or
being flattened by the peach cotton pantsuit,
the saxophone
saved for a new life,
turned into cash

to learn what is meant by:
a nice ass (braying) good
sex (boiling) liquid hours (stirring
with an iron bar, eating from your hand)

to read a few things
from: the file Ideas/Old Dreams
(his “eye” unseen,
the particular valuelessness
of a dead man’s eyeglasses,
contact lenses)

Where there is despair
“Since the first log fell across water”
it happened like this:

“Doesn’t anybody have the real potato salad?” Wandering from one 
(imaginary) picnic table to the next. The impulse to get /under/ the 
table. The answer, in a way, is yes.

-- Kate Greenstreet

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