[Local events] Spare Room Presents Karla Kelsey & Ally Harris August 14th

Maryrose . maryrose at gmail.com
Sun Jul 17 13:03:54 PDT 2011


Karla Kelsey & Ally Harris

Sunday, August 14th
7:30

Open Space Cafe
2815 SE Holgate

$5.00 suggested donation

*Karla Kelsey* is author of *Knowledge, Forms, the Aviary *(Ahsahta
Press),*Iteration
Nets* (Ahsahta Press), *3 Movements* (Pilot Press), and* Little Dividing
Doors in the Mind* (Noemi Press). She edits and writs for The Constant
Critic. Find her website (www.karlakelsey.wordpress.com) for poems and more
information.

*Ally Harris* lives, works, and writes. She graduated from the Iowa Writers
Workshop with an MFA in Poetry and has had poems appear in places like*Sixth
Finch, Tarpaulin Sky,* and *Poor Claudia*.

*STATION *

But nevertheless we traverse. With another rhythm we were off the platform
and walking through the station and I was describing the workings of
language in another language. I was lost in a geometrical puzzle of colored
light, of event become gesture lending itself to a series of gestures until
you pointed to a keyhole in one of the green-battered doors and I stopped.
And as I bent to look I was yielded over to the gilded room inside, to the
inaccessibility of chandelier and brocade, the intact waiting room of the
Austro-Hungarian Empire in counterpoint to my body weighted by other bodies,
by having been moved to the capital by the labor of a train. That we are
constituted by such moments of hinging yields to the field overtaken by the
sweetness of mint and so to dwell there in silence even as the cold of earth
seeps into the fabric of my dress. I document this by sound constructed in
the base of my throat and call this doctrine something individual, a process
of pulling on gloves, buttoned to the elbow, and then unbuttoning, pulling
off.

*Karla Kelsey*
*
A CONSTELLATION*

Paring off the skin. The protégé of underwater
false waves
cast of desired goods
that break on her throat. Possess from this a secret
plus or minus person. Physically
I mean cultivated along the water-spider's
wiry black back. The biggest comfort later
fixes into the song with glittery beams. Alacrity, sweet
nearest.
The failure is too much. Sleep will not wiggle off
like some leaf into the light
of your easy camera. *

Ally Harris*
*
*
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