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By Michael Collins
The intertwining themes of mirroring, identity and narrative construction present themselves concurrently in the very opening of Let No One Sleep, the latest from Juan Josè Millàs in the engaging translation by Thomas Bunstead:
Seeing herself in the mirror, Lucía said, That fat woman is me.
March 8th
6pm to 7:30pm
Northeast Philadelphia Regional Library
2228 Cottman Avenue, Philadelphia, Pa. 19149
Naila Francis and Kimmika Williams-Witherspoon
Naila Francis is a writer/poet, grief doula and wedding officiant based in Philadelphia. She is also a founding member of Salt Trails, an interdisciplinary collective honoring grief through community rituals. Her poetry has previously been published in “North of Oxford,” “Scribbler,” “Voicemail Poems” and the Healing Verse Phone Line. www.NailaFrancis.com
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Kimmika Williams-Witherspoon, PhD (Cultural Anthropology), M.A. (Anthropology), MFA (Theater), Graduate Certificate) Women’s Studies, B.A. (Journalism); is an Associate Professor of Urban Theater and Community Engagement in the Theater Department in the School of Theater, Film and Media Arts in the Center for the Performing and Cinematic Arts and is currently serving as President of the Faculty Senate at Temple University. Williams-Witherspoon is the author of Through Smiles and Tears: The History of African American Theater (From Kemet to the Americas) (Lambert Academic Publishing, 2011); The Secret Messages in African American Theater: Hidden Meaning Embedded in Public Discourse” (Edwin Mellen Publishing, 2006). https://www.kimmikawilliamswitherspoon.com/
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Our Full Winter/Spring Schedule Here: https://northofoxford.wordpress.com/2023/01/02/2nd-wednesdays-poetry-northeast-regional-library/
On street parking and parking in Giant/ TD Bank parking lot available. SEPTA Bus Service available
Thanks to our featured poet, Charles Carr, for an outstanding reading and to the open mic poets Benita Bird, Leonard Kress, Dave Worrell and Kathleen Brown.
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Calder at the Top of the Stairs
If this is modernism
Why are you smiling?
Is it the light hanging
In nothing, ruby
Triangle turning, leaf
Or teardrop train or
Dreamshape you
Have never seen
Before turning
Answerably round the
Ruby triangle? Is
It the invisible
Unavoidable, as in they
Will turn, at a speed
Consulting nothing but the
Declarations of independence
Of air and gravity? Is
It their delicate
Armatures, wires of
Relation, family
Of place and force,
Cantilevers hiding
Tensions, weights,
Poise and counterpoise,
Sleights
And designs
Inviting the sacrilege
Of touch to test how
What hangs is hanging,
Feel, as Eden’s
Finger felt for
Heaven’s, patterns-made-solid
Hauling against and with
(Which gets you kicked
Out of the museum)?
Still smiling. Do you
Remember that
You, too, hang
Athwart and among
Circlers, wanderers, brilliants,
All the ellipses and rings –
Planets, blood
Cells jostling down
Vascular sluiceways, wacky-
Eyed fish, sycamore
Rookbursts, shockwaves
Flowering, comic
Domino of cause into
Effect, conga
Lines, timeframes,
Interorbits of planned
And unplanned – and
You, too, are
At play? Do
You smile because
A man started this but
His art lay in
Turning it loose, letting
Go self into everything,
A universe of sightless
Angels of influence at
Work, bulky, spinning
Pear of a planet, cross-
Pulling vector
Fields, writhing
Magma, currents that
Never stop, never? As if
Watch what happens now
Were his only theme? Turn:
This blue orb gestures to
That black rhomboid. Turn
Again: brand-new
Fingerposts in all
Dimensions? Do you
Smile to recognize
The marvel in this
Nameless moving? Isn’t
That predicament
Great? To live where
Known and
Unknowable, these
Shrapnels of
Joy, reshape the shape
We’re In? Drive
To the child at the
Center? You’re still
Smiling. Do you assent? Did
You ever think you would?
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