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ZOOM Poetry Reading with Art Predator: 7:30pm Thursday December 3, 2020

December 2, 2020


With almost all in-person live events cancelled because of COVID, have you joined any ZOOM poetry events?

Tomorrow Thursday, December 3, please join me, Gwendolyn Alley, at the EP Foster Library online reading hosted by Phil Taggart. The zoom chat room opens at 7 and an open mic follows. Join here: Meeting ID: 960 750 1600

I moved from journalism to creative writing and earned a degree from UC Santa Cruz where I studied with Al Young, Lucille Clifton, James Houston, and Page Stegner. I began doing poetry as a grad student in English at the University of Nevada Reno. My publications include my poetry collection middle of the night: poems from daughter to mother :: mother to son, some three dozen poetry broadsides in Art/Life (a limited edition magazine sought, bought, and collected around the world), a co-edited collection (with Danika Dinsmore) between sleeps: the 315 experiment 1993-2005), plus two major public art poetry commissions, one in Pasadena about water and one in Santa Barbara about the Thomas Fire.
In the announcement of the reading, Phil sent along the ZOOM link and this YouTube link as well as this poem below that was originally published in Art/Life as well as here where you can also see the broadside:

i see him when he’s making bread mostly
he doesn’t see me
he is relaxed, focused
elegant in his motions
smooth waltz with the dough
he is young and beautiful
smooth cheeked girl slim

i imagine him bringing me bread
warm the bread is warm and crunchy and soft
flour dusts his blue jeans and plaid flannel shirt
the scent of warm bread on his breath
in his brown hair

i wouldn’t want to wash his clothes
wouldn’t want to wash the bread smells from him
he can’t smell it any more but i
would wrap myself in his bread clothes
understand his life
what he does with his days

the baking of bread i understand this i understand
his rhythm his motion
he would have time to think
his feet would be tired his back
i would knead him
smell the bread smells in my hands

a baker’s life starts early
he would leave the warm bed for the bakery
through the window he can see the dawn
see the children cross the street to school
see them on saturday play soccer

he would walk home at lunch
and we would have bread
with salads with soup in sandwiches
it would be enough his bread
and we would be happy
I’ll probably be reading for 15-20 minutes, ending before 8pm. I will probably read the poem above as a testimony to all of the bread baking going on in 2020. I’ll probably read the poem from the video above as well, and the long poem about water that was commissioned by the city of Pasadena and was part of a public art installation in a park there. I have a new poem inspired by a chance operation on the occasion of the passing of Diane di Prima in October and I’ll do some of my COVID American sentences that I wrote last April during National Poetry Month.
Find more of my poetry check out Art Predator where I published my 2000th post in April 2020.   
Thank you Phil for inviting me to read!
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