Here are the intros from the last Bad Shadow Affair reading of the season:
When I read Kathy Goodkin’s poems I feel like I’m a five year old in love with all the things most adults can no longer access. I think this has to do with a willingness to interact with wonder instead of stifling it with names. Her poems play TV tag and Red Rover with ghost-soldiers. But these poems don’t just hang out in the playground, they’re slipping into the woods behind the gym to smoke, they’re changing outfits in the bathroom stall, they’re beheading daffodils like an early frost before the first bell rings. Kathy’s poems access the unpredictability of movement, they are the eyes blinking at you from within the recess of a black tree.
Laura Eve Engel’s poems rub up against you but not like a cat does to your leg. More like a new kind of planet made from the vapors of snake venum, ransacked museums, the breath you use to melt the ice in the keyhole. This new kind of planet does not hesitate or demur; its proximity will scare astronomers and astrologers, politicians and businessmen. But not you, you who let this planet press letters into your back with its meteoric fingers, spelling out how admission is different than confession as a thousand milkweeds explode.
I love this one: http://coloradoreview.colostate.edu/features/you-love-desperately/
Jennifer Pilch sent me this painting by Clare Grill and I LOVE IT because it's within a frame and too much all at once: