Old Capitol Books is pleased to welcome Milwaukee poetry publishers Alcoholic Vegetarian and their cadre of touring poets, Sierra-Nicole Qualles & Franklin K.R. Cline.
What: “Alcoholic Vegetarian” – poetry readings by poets Sierra-Nicole Qualles & Franklin K.R. Cline
When: Sunday 7 January, 2018 – 4pm
Franklin K.R. Cline is a PhD Candidate in English–Creative Writing at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, an enrolled member of the Cherokee Nation, a member of Woodland Pattern Book Center’s Board of Directors, and the book reviews and interviews editor for cream city review. His book, So What (ISBN: 978-0-9992103-2-1), was published by Vegetarian Alcoholic in October.
Sierra-Nicole Qualles is a phantom just trying to get by in Los Angeles. She finds comfort in the dark and inspiration in the indescribable. She can be found riding trains or in museums and is addicted to mannerisms. Her work can be found in Your Impossible Voice and OR. Her book, Loose Cannon (ISBN: 978-0-9992103-6-9), is forthcoming in January from Vegetarian Alcoholic.
“SO WHAT”
Franklin K.R. Cline
i’m trying
to avoid
this dangerous culture
of want
mercury it seems is always
in retrograde
it’s all getting jumbled
meanwhile i’m telling someone
i don’t remember
if they asked or not
about pastoral poetry it describes the land without calling it stolen
generally speaking
anyway
why write poems about the land
it describes itself
“Explaining Poetry to a Dead Rabbit”
Sierra-Nicole Qualles
Destiny is negative
All manners of circles come pulsing
It’s not noisy
But to read it backward is sacrifice
It is like forgetting how you died
how that eagle snapped your neck
and called its children up for breakfast
It is me by your side
shoe to head nudging
Saying sorry only to the blood and waking up
How tiring it is when you are your only fear
When the cost of letters
segregates the opened mind
To see the blades of grass as you do
For you to know what it feels like to be safe
The separation of skin and bone has widened
for the words
That endless highway keeping me up
that last touch of dirt crawling in your ear
and the creek from here to sky
motioning complete
Old Capitol Books 