1:00pm, $200 | $185 for members of either WPBC or Lynden Sculpture Garden
josé felipe alvergue is a graduate of both the Cal Arts Writing (MFA) and Buffalo Poetics (PhD) programs. He is the author of gist : rift : drift : bloom (Further Other Book Works, 2015) and precis (forthcoming with Omnidawn). He currently teaches at the University of Wisconsin - Eau Claire.
Joshua Lickteig is a poet and senior engineer for a technology organization. He holds a Master of Science in Management ofInformation Systems from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. His first book of poetry, In the Belling Stillness, was published in 2011. Poems from his latest book, Ten Control Mills, were recently performed in Don Russell’s original one-act play iTopia, through Cooperative Performance Milwaukee, a company of which he is an artist member. His next book, Rigged In Kings, will be published through Ypte Press.
Emily Anderson's writing has been published in such venues as Harper's, Conjunctions, Kenyon Review, Fence, Broadview Anthology of Short Fiction, and Best American Experimental Writing 2015. Her book, Little: Novels (Blaze VOX Books 2015), erases each of Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House novels. A long-term collaboration with photo-video based artist Jen Morris has been presented in Philadelphia, Brattleboro (Vermont), Buffalo (New York), and Santa Cruz de Tenerife (Spain). Anderson holds an MFA from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and an MA from Bucknell University. Currently, she is a PhD candidate in English at the University at Buffalo.
Each page will have halves of stripes
And pages turned will have new
Strides whereabout though you
Know notable marks behind are
Neither more beginnings nor ends
Their sides are meant in cold
Blocking to bedrone pale
Space and these words beside
To unfield themselves, unturn
Each page, retain in aegis
It is about an object or face and its partitions,
Adjustments or ghosts, three, three, three, four,
Four, three, three, three, 3.5, 3.5, 2 a binding
Star only a brute point in a single moment, before
The star the case it was brought by another,
The case that it has happened, hasn’t
Benign’d its short points of light nor own
Unled spring, rinsed in sands and canted
The lake at the ends
Of the door, the edges
Falling from heavens
A bearing warms on
Other bearings, senten-
Cing in the eyes
Of the petal’s child, the
Lake runs wild, the
Endings move Eastwest,
The afore neither sheet
Nor bed needs another
Though another needs a vine
High in the lake (dance)
The unsoak’d both.
—Joshua Lickteig, from Rigged In Kings
Ghost on a flash drive. Those scientists are reenacting the first voyages of the Viking ships.
Note the square orange sail, the ship’s curved prow. An abandoned ghost. They look hungry.
Ghosts who are deeply sorrowful, ghosts who are Abraham Lincoln. Ghosts pushing baby
carriages over treacherous ridges, down scatterstone slopes. Soldiers watched the cold sea in
their dark boots. Flimsy ghosts. Ghosts who are monkeys. Ghosts who wear monkey skin, fur
They scraped the scales off fish to make shoeleather; they had wet feet for the duration of the
occupation. Ghosts laughing at fear. Seals wallow on the frozen beach in March. Give me a
moment. So much happens when the lighthouse light revolves in triple stripes over the land
and the water. It will take a while to tell you. First, blue made blue by yellow light, then ghosts
coughing, hacking, wheezing, spitting, sweeping, swallowing, brushing, gazing, adoring,
stopping, dozing and snowing. The light falls among the rocks. It sweeps the sea, it nears me,
my skin in the dark ghosts racing, ghosts forsaking none of their progeny.
—Emily Anderson, from Alive!
—josé felipe alvergue, from gist : rift : drift : bloom