[Local events] Sat. 6/27: Friedman, Mangold, & Alessandrelli

David Abel david at thetextgarage.com
Thu Jun 11 12:06:33 PDT 2015

/*Spare Room <http://www.flim.com/spareroom>*//*presents*/

*Michael Friedman**
**   Sarah Mangold**
**   Jeff Alessandrelli*

*Saturday, June 27*
7:00 pm

*Mother Foucault's Bookshop* <https://www.facebook.com/MotherFoucaults>
523 SE Morrison

$5 suggested donation

*Michael Friedman* is the author of the recently-published Martian Dawn 
& Other Novels (Little A) and two full-length books of poetry, including 
/Species/ (The Figures), and four chapbooks. His work has appeared in 
several anthologies, including /Great American Prose Poems/ (Scribner). 
Previously, he was the board chair of the Poetry Project at St. Mark's 
Church, and an adjunct faculty member of Naropa University's MFA writing 
program. He is the cofounder of the literary journal /Shiny/, grew up in 
Manhattan, and lives in Denver.

*Sarah Mangold* is the author of the just-released /Electrical Theories 
of Femininity/ (Black Radish) and /Household Mechanics /(New Issues). 
Her most recent chapbooks include /The Goddess Can Be Recognized By Her 
Step/ (dusie kollektiv) and /An Antenna Called The Body/ (LRL Textile 
Editions). From 2002-09 she edited /Bird Dog/, a print literary journal 
of innovative writing and art. She lives near Seattle.

*Jeff Alessandrelli *is the author of the full-length collection /This 
Last Time Will Be the First/. Other work has appeared in /Denver 
Quarterly, DIAGRAM, Gulf Coast, Boston Review/, and five chapbooks. The 
name of Jeff's dog is Beckett Long Snout; the name of his micro-press is 
Dikembe Press.

*from Chapter One of /Martian Dawn/*

     She watched Richard move silently through the house, stopping to 
rearrange the flowers and pictures. Sometimes, she reflected, he was 
like a wild animal -- a black panther padding through the brush of 
Equatorial Guinea at dusk.
     She knew that Richard was a sucker for her "come-hither" look. 
Lately he had been like putty in her hands. Because he would do whatever 
she wanted, she often had to pause to think about what it was she did 
want. And, too often, she didn't know. Did she even want Richard, now 
that she had him? Why not? He was a handsome movie star with millions of 
dollars. His intellect was passable.

*Michael Friedman*

*How Information Lost Its Body *

The loop no longer functions to connect a system to its

environment. Glowing empire.  An elephant of  walnuts.

Grizzly  bear  of  prunes.  Peel  the motif  of  hothouse

evangelical.  One  can  imagine other  ways  of  being

other  metaphors.  Upholster a hopeful monster. The I in

hand.  Realized muffin tin. Realized cake stand.

*Sarah Mangold*

*Poem for Cindy Sherman*

She set the stove to 450 degrees,
waited 15 minutes, then stuck
the snowman's bulbous head
inside. Thick with the greying
drudgeness of the season,
the drudging greyness.
Black the snowman's eyes burned.
Snow wears itself as a corpse
wears its skin.
As a mountain wears against the sky
the sky wears into a mountain.
Deeply in her cot she slept
thoughts unseen.
Black the burn; come see
the blinding.
Outside, slowly,
the sun.

*Jeff Alessandrelli*

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