Sunday, March 18, 3:00 p.m.
Lynn Behrendt, Melissa Broder and Adam Marston
@ DC Arts Center
LYNN BEHRENDT is the author of petals, emblems, available from Lunar Chandelier Press. She co-edits the Annandale Dream Gazette, a chronicle of poets' dreams, as well as co-curating the electronic journal Peep/Show Poetry. She is the editor and publisher of the micropress LINESchapbooks, which has published works by Ron Silliman, Robert Kelly, Kimberly Lyons, and others. She lives with her son in Red Hook, NY, and works in the grants office at Bard College.
MELISSA BRODER is the author of two collections of poems, When You Say One Thing but Mean Your Mother, and most recently MEAT HEART. Poems appear or are forthcoming in Guernica, Redivider, The Missouri Review online, Court Green, Drunken Boat, Barrelhouse, The Awl, et al. She edits La Petite Zine. By day she is a publicity manager at Penguin.
ADAM MARSTON writes poems. Once, a friend came over and was aghast to see Adam's windowsill air conditioner. "I thought those were like, a joke or something," the friend said. "Wow," the friend said. However rude, they were still friends, and that was the main problem. There wasn't any more story between them. The air conditioner cooled them both off so well that neither felt conflicted about what the friend had said about it. Eventually, they both agreed that the friend needed to get home, which the friend did. The air conditioner was already home and still is.
MELISSA BRODER is the author of two collections of poems, When You Say One Thing but Mean Your Mother, and most recently MEAT HEART. Poems appear or are forthcoming in Guernica, Redivider, The Missouri Review online, Court Green, Drunken Boat, Barrelhouse, The Awl, et al. She edits La Petite Zine. By day she is a publicity manager at Penguin.
ADAM MARSTON writes poems. Once, a friend came over and was aghast to see Adam's windowsill air conditioner. "I thought those were like, a joke or something," the friend said. "Wow," the friend said. However rude, they were still friends, and that was the main problem. There wasn't any more story between them. The air conditioner cooled them both off so well that neither felt conflicted about what the friend had said about it. Eventually, they both agreed that the friend needed to get home, which the friend did. The air conditioner was already home and still is.
Location:
2438 18th Street in Adams Morgan
(south of Columbia Rd. on the west side of the street)
All readings are on third Sundays at 3 PM, Admission $5, FREE for DCAC members