BAY AREA POETS SEASONAL REVIEW 

I'm offering a one-day, "Writing Out of Winter" workshop on Sunday, January 31st, 10-5, and an "Introduction to Poetry Writing" 6-week class on Wednesday evenings, 7:30-9 beginning February 3.The classes will be held in Crockett, at the foot of the Carquinez Bridge.

You will write a lot of poems in my classes, and learn some new techniques for diving into your source material. Fun and comfortable setting.

The one-day workshop on 1/31 is $45-60 sliding scale, which will include a light lunch and a nearby park to walk in. The 6-week class is $150.

Crocektt is about a 20-30 minute drive from points in Berkeley, Oakland, Walnut Creek, and Concord, depending on the traffic flow. 

 
SF Poetry Examiner

This year Jannie was selected as the SF Poetry Examiner for Examiner.com, an online newspaper which gives up-to-the-minute news in subject areas. Rarely has poetry been given such a space for sharing its news and celebrating its shakers and movers. Send news bits to janniedres@yahoo.com or poetsreview@gmail.com.

Among her recent articles are highlights of Bay Area poetry centers (Marin and San Jose), comments about poets of the past (John Clare, Rimbaud), and features about local poets (Adam David Miller, Pireeni Sundaralingam, Chana Bloch, Marc Hofstadter, Judy Wells and Dale Jensen, and others). 

Visit Jannie's poetry and art blogs: 

http://spinnngjannie.blogspot.com is about poetry and the writing life;

http://spineofafish.blogspot.com is about creating art

After Hopper's "Cape Cod Evening" (1939)

We believed in our houses.

They stood

for something -- well-deserved

vacations

a stone's throw from the beach.

We kept the woods,

aswirl in their long black distances,

at bay. We plied

cloud-white paint

thick as clapboard.

We strained cans of paint, 

boarded storm windows, groomed

our lawns and the collie.

That sun, disappearing, still wades

through inevitable dusk,

overgrown grass.

In late stages of green,

we watched and gauged

how our husbands no longer

could command anything,

even the dog.

The forest seemed fantastically safe,

where it frothed at the edge

of our haven; and the harbor

we thought was a lake

was dredged to remove time.

Like lace doilies, we tried

pressing down; wanted

the dust

to stay in its place.

Now, there's nothing

to do, cross arms at elbows

and pray.

-- Jannie M. Dresser