Pennsylvania

upcoming events

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Apr 17 2015
Stadler Center Slams: Dorothea Lasky

A reading with Dorothea Lasky. Includes open mic.

 

8:00pm
701 Moore Ave.
17837 Lewisburg, Pennsylvania
Apr 08 2015
A Poetry Reading by Matthew Dickman

Matthew Dickman is the author of All-American Poem (American Poetry Review/ Copper Canyon Press, 2008), 50 American Plays (co-written with his twin brother Michael Dickman, Copper Canyon Press, 2012), and Mayakovsky’s Revolver (W.W. Norton & Co, 2012).

 

6:00pm
3805 Locust Walk
Arts Cafe
19104 Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Apr 04 2015
Geffrey Davis/Robin Becker Reading

A reading with Geffrey Davis and Robin Becker.

 

7:30pm to 9:00pm
University Park
Foster Auditorium, Paterno Library
16801 State College, Pennsylvania

recent & featured listings

typesort ascending name state
Writing Program Carnegie Mellon University Pennsylvania
Writing Program Chatham University Pennsylvania
Writing Program Mansfield University Pennsylvania
Writing Program Penn State University Pennsylvania
Writing Program Temple University Pennsylvania
Writing Program The Stadler Center for Poetry at Bucknell Pennsylvania
Writing Program University of Pennsylvania Pennsylvania
Landmark The Marianne Moore Collection at the Rosenbach Museum & Library Pennsylvania
Conference Bucknell Seminar for Younger Poets Pennsylvania
Conference Ligonier Valley Writers Conference Pennsylvania

poems

poem
Yardley, Pennsylvania, an expensive dump
and the van seats shake their broken bones.

Duty-free liquor and cigarettes,
the refineries and the harbor's cranes.

The moon digs its way out of the dirt.
The branches of an evergreen sway.

She's nice
the woman you don't love.

She kisses you hard and often
holding
poem

I burn your Highland Park. I acid your Carnegie
car dealerships. Your Squirrel Hill, sheer terror
in winter. But most of all, I hate your Liberty Avenue,
the last place, one night, I saw my closest friend
saying, Wait here, outside the after-hours club. I wait,
hating your Strip,

poem
In all these rotten shops, in all this broken furniture
and wrinkled ties and baseball trophies and coffee pots
I have never seen a post-war Philco 
with the automatic eye
nor heard Ravel's "Bolero" the way I did
in 1945 in that tiny living room
on Beechwood Boulevard, nor danced as I did
then, my knives all