• 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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readings & workshops
April 6 - Jun 27

Book Club: Readshops led by Karl Gartung

exhibitions
October 5 - Nov 24

Chain of Events: Tyanna Buie

readings & workshops
October 22 - Dec 31

Welcome Home!: A Veterans Writing Group

readings & workshops
October 23

Reading and Book Launch: Kathie Giorgio

readings & workshops
October 24

Urban Echo Poets

readings & workshops
October 27

Submitathon

readings & workshops
October 30

Undocumented: Great Lakes Poets Laureate on Social Justice

readings & workshops
November 1

Reading and Screening: Trisha Low, Stephanie Young, and Zachary Epcar

film & video
November 3

It’s an Interlace: Five Videos by Barbara Hammer

readings & workshops
November 10 - Dec 8

Shifty Subjects and Unexpected Endings

performances
November 10

Alternating Currents Live presents: The Transatlantic Bridge #2.2

special events
November 16

39th Anniversary Gala

performances
November 17

Alternating Currents Live presents: Ernest Dawkins’ Boglifier Project

readings & workshops
November 21

Poetry Reading: Kimberly Blaeser & William Stobb

November 28

CLOSED

Archived readings & workshops
May 21 Sunday, May 21
11:00am,

 

Suzanne and Sarah Rosenblatt, mother and daughter, will read from their writings that grapple with life without their beloved husband and father, Adolph Rosenblatt,  in a time of tumultuous political change. Sarah's poems from her recently published, Where are We in This Story, also explore the mystery underlying everyday life. Suzanne's journal and poems explore the interconnectedness of nature, humans, politics, of all that happens on earth. Come celebrate mystery, kindness, love and loss.

 


Excerpt from Where Are We In This Story? by Sarah Rosenblatt:


One minute you think you are brilliant,
The next minute, You feel you are losing your marbles.
One minute your children are loving and insightful,
The next minute, they are delinquent heartbreakers.
There is no truly objective version
Of one irrefutable truth
That will be spelled out to the sky, to the birds,
No Answers to the precipitous questions in your hair

 


Excerpt from Suzanne's journal:

When someone loses a limb, the nerves are still there
So it feels as if the limb is.
It sounds similar to losing your other half
After 57 years of living together, I keep feeling as if Adolph's still here,
On the couch paging through a book of Van Gogh paintings,
Complimenting my blouse when I walk into the living room.
Somewhere in my mind
I still expect him to critique my drawings, comment on a poem,
Enjoy the dinner I just cooked.
I look at the upcoming concerts he would have loved to go to with me,
I used to watch him conduct from his seat
Yes, used to watch
Now I have to turn all those expectations, all those habits of thought
Into memories.