Carter, Dowling & Zolf 9/22 7 pm IPRC

The Switch presents poets Nathan Wade Carter, Sarah Dowling & Rachel Zolf
  When: Monday, September 22, doors at 6:30 p.m., reading at 7 pm sharp. FREE  
Where: IPRC, 1001 SE Division St., Portland, OR

Nathan Wade Carter is a poet, musician and artist living in Portland, Oregon. His poetry can be found most recently in Potluck Magazine and on InkNode. He writes and performs music under the name Purrbot. His music can be found on Bandcamp and Spotify. Find him online at nathanwadecarter.com.

Sarah Dowling is the author of DOWN, Birds & Bees, and Security Posture, winner of the Robert Kroetsch Award for Innovative Poetry. Selections from her work appear in I’ll Drown My Book: Conceptual Writing by Women. Her critical work has appeared in American Quarterly, GLQ, Canadian Literature, Signs and elsewhere. Dowling is an Assistant Professor in the School of Interdisciplinary Arts and Sciences at the University of Washington Bothell.




 

Rachel Zolf’s fifth book of poetry is Janey’s Arcadia (Coach House, Fall 2014), an aversive, conversive reckoning with the ongoing errors of Canadian settler-colonialism. Other publications include Neighbour Procedure (2010) and Human Resources (2007), which won the Trillium Book Award for Poetry and was a finalist for a Lambda Literary Award. Among her many collaborations with other artists, she wrote the film The Light Club of Vizcaya: A Women’s Picture, directed by New York artist Josiah McElheny, which premiered at Art Basel Miami 2012. She has taught at The New School and the University of Calgary, and has recently returned to her hometown, Toronto.



by Nathan Wade Carter:

DO I MAKE RAINBOWS?


Do you bounce when thrown? Do you shatter like temperature?
Am I clear matter of some kind? Do I distort light and make rainbows?
Do I make this light or leaden?
Do I heave this cloud up like a bad hat?


by Sarah Dowling: 

 I’VE GOT TO TELL YOU



Can you Can you Can you Can

I promise you If we talk and you know

But see

I don’t know if I

shouldn’t tell but if

I let you You can’t I’m talking Are you

I’m not lonely just Is it, Is it Say yes



or say no Cause I really Tell me are

you wet Oh

Boy Won’t you If you tell you know

that I shouldn’t let you but

If I let You can’t tell I’m proud I hope

I’m not Is it Is it Cause I really

Tell me are you that



somebody listen Cause I really Tell me are

you can’t

tell I’m talking if that’s

difficult I hope I’m not

lost just Say Is it Cause I really Tell me are you that

somebody Cause I really You can’t



tell I’m talking further

 

by Rachel Zolf: 

JANEY'S INVOCATION
 
Infallible settlers say this is the latest season
they have known. All seed life seems somnolent,
yet a delicate suggestion of colour is at the tips
of the willows. An insidious, slow-moving process
is at work in the trees – one that spells from death
-car to drive more slowly unto drouth-world. The wine
of spring aflush on the face THE COPS- FIND- 2 J3<3
I H • ^ \ Hn is a Goad of Death Gourd of chanqts Takt
Life is totally totally lonely of Nature. Dearth is
the only reality we’ve got left in our nicey-nicey-
clean-ice-cream-tv scraps, so we’d better worship
the long wall of skulls next to the ball park. The delay
only whets our monstrosity. A unique beauty about
this pre-vernal landscape before it is screened
by red-brown colour, air and surface, semi-thick –
a boldness suggestive of how Janey and the rest
of the people witnessed the Italian primitifs
in ‘wild’ societies where the word ‘why’
can’t exist. With a minimum of means we
get a maximum of expression.