• Address 720 East Locust Street | Milwaukee, WI 53212
  • Phone 414.263.5001
  • Hours Tue-Fri 11-8pm | Sat-Sun 12-5pm | Closed Mon
  • Hours Tue-Fri 11-8pm, Sat-Sun 12-5pm, Closed Mon
Event Calendar
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performances
April 19

Alash Ensemble

special events
April 21

Join us for the 13th annual RIVERWEST FOLLIES variety show

performances
April 22

ACL presents Renee Baker Quartet, Visual Dark Scratch Suite

exhibitions
April 22

Woman: Frailty Thy Name, works by Renee Baker

readings & workshops
April 25

Reading: Toni Jensen

readings & workshops
April 26

Four Milwaukee Poets: Alix Anne Shaw with Annie Grizzle, Sam Pekarske & Bethany Price

readings & workshops
April 28

Wisconsin Reads: Reading with Louise Erdrich (video streamed to Woodland Pattern)

readings & workshops
May 2

Poetry Reading: Rena Priest and Denise Low

readings & workshops
May 2

Craft Talk with Denise Low at UWM

readings & workshops
May 10

Birds in Poetry at Urban Ecology Center

performances
May 13

Alternating Currents Live presents: The Transatlantic Bridge #11

readings & workshops
May 16

Kundiman Midwest Chapbook Series Noel Pabillo Mariano

performances
May 17

Formations Series for New & Improvised Music

readings & workshops
May 24

Poetry Reading: Urban Echo Poets

performances
June 3

ACL presents: Tom Hamilton & City of Vorticity

Anne Shaw

Anne Shaw is the author of two poetry collections:Dido in Winter, (Persea, 2014), and Undertow(Persea, 2007), winner of the Lexi Rudnitsky Poetry Prize. Her poems and reviews have appeared in journals including Harvard Review, Black Warrior Review, Denver Quarterly, The Los Angeles Review, The Kenyon Review, and New American Writing. She currently lives in Chicago, where she studies sculpture at the School of the Art Institute. Her work can be found online at www.anneshaw.org.

Selected Poems

Invitation

Anne Shaw

           Voices drift across the lawn
and form in the shape of clovers. A slight breeze
           bezels the fishpond, lens
                  of grainy light, black

           cord covered with electric tape. Kneel
on the concrete. Tile, sedge.

                                    Koi ghost out
                        to meet you, blunt-
                                           edged hunger curving
                                     blindly up.

Take this bract that rises and subsides.

                          Butterscotch or red and white,
                                                      their bodies slick
                                       as sorrow, lathered
                             with the cold, unseemly weed.

           Elsewhere, there's a party.
   Clink of glasses, square of kitchen light.

                         Elsewhere, a pair of pliers
             spreads
                           its implicate beak.
                                                          A hooded sweatshirt
                    gestures from the bottom of a lake.

Here, put these on. You're going to need
             the leather gloves I tossed off in the shed.

Speech is just an instrument to register
the night. I offer

                   you no hook, no tool,
                   nothing to make fast

no metal implement with which to cut or mend.