• Address 720 East Locust Street | Milwaukee, WI 53212
  • Phone 414.263.5001
  • Hours Tue-Fri 11-8pm | Sat-Sun 12-5pm | Closed Mon
  • Hours Tue-Fri 11-8pm, Sat-Sun 12-5pm, Closed Mon
Event Calendar
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exhibitions
May 4 - Jun 11

Exhibition: News from the Homefront, Recent Works by Jeff Morin

readings & workshops
June 1

Book Release: Resist Much / Obey Little: Inaugural Poems to the Resistance

readings & workshops
June 4

Poetry Reading: Jennifer Scappettone

readings & workshops
June 6 -9

Intersite: Geopoetics of the Constructed Landscape and Beyond

special events
June 11 -11

Anja Notanja Sieger's Advice Tent

readings & workshops
June 13

OFFSITE READING: Poetry in the Park

Archived readings & workshops
Jun 20 Saturday, June 20
6:30pm, FREE

 

A reading to celebrate the publication of Devin Johnston’s Far-Fetched (FSG, 2015) and Nate Klug’s Anyone (U of Chicago, 2015).

 

Photo: Juno
Gemes

 Born in 1970, Devin Johnston spent his childhood in North Carolina. He is the author of four    

 previous books of poetry and two books of prose, including Creaturely and Other Essays. He works for Flood  Editions, an independent publishing house, and teaches at Saint Louis University  in Missouri.

 

"Far-Fetched figures the lyric poet as a weaver of glimmering, delicate threads of thought gathered from otherwise overlooked moments of experience. Johnston is quiet, expert. Each poem holds in balance a lapidary concision and utter lushness of vowel-work." —Ange Mlinko, author of Marvelous Things Overheard

​

Nate Klug is the author of Rude Woods, a modern translation of Virgil’s Eclogues (The Song Cave, 2013), and Anyone, a book of poems (Chicago, 2015). He works as an UCC-Congregationalist minister and has served churches in Connecticut, Iowa, and California.

 

"Klug's poems are like containers catching rain, ping by ping, they have perfect sound patterns made by the formation of a water they create themselves falling in." —Fanny Howe 


 

An Epoch

 

Each streetlight declares an absence

where it pools, a square of sidewalk

poured long ago and still engraved

with the burr of a trowel

and rough swirls of a broom,

the curb edge sprayed

with neon glyphs of hook and arrow

that do not pertain to us.

Only the light’s vapor has changed

from mercury to sodium,

a spectral shift from blue to orange.

Matte black, a lone beetle

churns across the concrete

beneath its upturned shield.

 

        —Devin Johnston

 

 

Parade

 

As with this Jet Ski family

         braiding the lake

with bigger and bigger shocks

until the one

         car-sized one

cuts his engine

and, following him, for an instant

         they all coast

through silences

of self-made

         rain—

 

how much is required now

                    to carve,

out of the general

livable quiet,

         independence?

 

        —Nate Klug