• 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
readings & workshops
March 22

Community Conversation About The Round House 

special events
March 24

Anne Kingsbury passes the torch to our new directors!

readings & workshops
March 28

Poetry Reading: Sherwin Bitsui & Bojan Louis

readings & workshops
March 29

Urban Echo Poets

readings & workshops
April 4

Creative Open Mic “Show Your Love of the River” Sharing & Member Meeting

film & video
April 6

aCinema Screening

readings & workshops
April 11

Poetry Reading: Luci Tapahonso and Margaret Noodin

readings & workshops
April 14

Kundiman Midwest Chapbook Series: Lo Kwa Mei-en

readings & workshops
April 17

Poetry Reading and Conversation with Roberto Harrison @ Brown Deer Public Library

April 19

Alash Ensemble

April 21

Woman: Frailty Thy Name, works by Renee Baker

April 22

ACL presents Renee Baker Quartet, Visual Dark Scratch Suite

readings & workshops
May 2

Poetry Reading: Rena Priest

May 13

Alternating Currents Live presents The Bridge

readings & workshops
May 16

Kundiman Midwest Chapbook Series Noel Pabillo Mariano

May 17

Formations Series for New & Improvised Music

readings & workshops
May 24

Poetry Reading: Urban Echo Poets

Anne Shaw

Anne Shaw is the author of two poetry collections:Dido in Winter, (Persea, 2014), and Undertow(Persea, 2007), winner of the Lexi Rudnitsky Poetry Prize. Her poems and reviews have appeared in journals including Harvard Review, Black Warrior Review, Denver Quarterly, The Los Angeles Review, The Kenyon Review, and New American Writing. She currently lives in Chicago, where she studies sculpture at the School of the Art Institute. Her work can be found online at www.anneshaw.org.

Selected Poems


Anne Shaw

           Voices drift across the lawn
and form in the shape of clovers. A slight breeze
           bezels the fishpond, lens
                  of grainy light, black

           cord covered with electric tape. Kneel
on the concrete. Tile, sedge.

                                    Koi ghost out
                        to meet you, blunt-
                                           edged hunger curving
                                     blindly up.

Take this bract that rises and subsides.

                          Butterscotch or red and white,
                                                      their bodies slick
                                       as sorrow, lathered
                             with the cold, unseemly weed.

           Elsewhere, there's a party.
   Clink of glasses, square of kitchen light.

                         Elsewhere, a pair of pliers
                           its implicate beak.
                                                          A hooded sweatshirt
                    gestures from the bottom of a lake.

Here, put these on. You're going to need
             the leather gloves I tossed off in the shed.

Speech is just an instrument to register
the night. I offer

                   you no hook, no tool,
                   nothing to make fast

no metal implement with which to cut or mend.