• 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
August 25 - Oct 1

Exhibition: Vicki, with an i, organized by Michelle Grabner

film & video
September 22

aCinema: // In Silence Arrives the Tempest // Waiting on Paradise //

exhibitions
September 23 -23

Reception: Vicki with an i, organized by Michelle Grabner

readings & workshops
September 28

Poetry Reading: Stacy Blint, Rebecca Eland & Mark Tardi

readings & workshops
September 30

100 Thousand Poets for Change MKE

readings & workshops
October 5

Poetry Reading: Feliz Lucia Molina

exhibitions
October 11

Exhibition: Jen Bervin, Tactile Lanuguage

readings & workshops
October 12

Offsite Event: Justice for All: Selected Writings of Lloyd A. Barbee

readings & workshops
October 13

Poetry Reading: Caitlin Scarano, Paula Carter & Freesia McKee

performances
October 22

Alternating Currents Live: Tom Rainey & Devin Drobka Percussion Duo

readings & workshops
October 26

Urban Echo Poets

special events
November 3

Join us on Friday, November 3rd for our 37th Annual Anniversary Gala!

 

readings & workshops
November 8

Poetry Reading: Matt Cook

Jared Stanley

Jared Stanley is the author of Book Made of Forest, which won Salt Publishing's Crashaw Prize in 2008. He also wrote the chapbooksThe Outer Bay (Trafficker Press), I Something Scott Inguito You(Scantily Clad Press) and co-wrote In Fortune (Dusie Kollectiv). His poems have recently appeared or are forthcoming in Mary,Realpoetik, and Likestarlings. With Lauren Levin and Catherine Meng, he edits the annual magazine Mrs. Maybe. He was born in Maricopa County, Arizona, raised in Alameda County, California, and currently lives in Merced County, California, where he teaches at the University of California, Merced.

Selected Poems

Just Like Poor Tom's Hair


Jared Stanley

 

Arcadia
you have a moon
that you are made of

moon grey
and copse-color
a far gauze
        lunaire, lunaire
motley with skin gleams
mere in its shitfulness

like Poor Tom's hair
a bric-a-brac attempt
a glint

to hide or rest
in the undergrowth.

White flag or heal-all,
you send me
kisses made of no

because I'm made of money
and don't care what the night is for
in the capacious branch shadows.

A figured owl in the teeth
of mama nature's last laugh.

Moon,
you can't win.
You're wallpaper,
a head on the ramparts,
or a compass of hinges
in a city's sky.

Free, free, free—
we are made of fire
and you are
made of cheese.