Paint & Poetry

Jelinski, Jack
         Sculpted in the snow,From whence they rose to the sky,The wing-tips of birds. The ermine freezesAs the winged shadow passesOver snow on snow.  Read more >>
Gustafson, Sid
       In your confounded struggleFor originality, nights lengthen.The snow falls…Heat departs. Read more >>
Pogge, Drew
   One snowflake said to another,“You’re a real dick, you know?”Taken quite aback,The other flake replied,“Really? What makes you say so?”  Read more >>
Keeler, Greg
Art by Michael S. Maydak When weather won’t hold and cloudsturn snake down skies too bright to stay,you blame the ducks and think bad ducksthen fisting skyward shout bad ducksat Vs that waver but don’t quit coming.  Read more >>
Jelinski, Jack
Come spring I am starved for a fix.I tremble like an addictfumbling with my head kit:blood knots, surgeon’s loops, clinch knots,longing to get bent, baked, jacked up,amped to find the perfect joltof energyfrom a perfectly drifted nymph Read more >>
Foster, John Clay
Art by Will PopeA young robin stares at the bud of a tree, waitingfor it to open. He thinks it will be in the nextseventeen minutes. “Wait for it, wait for it...”he sings (not being able to say the words withthe normal slow brevity required). Read more >>
Drew Pogge
We’re all falling down We leaves on the lam Spinning like sailors Walking on land And land where we may Any land at all There’s a place for each Bright leaf of the fall Yellow, orange And deep, bloody red Read more >>
Greg Keller
That brown, tailing in the tail of these riffles, strikes my attractor, my sick joke: black hackles then white rubber legs and a piece of red yarn for a butt. Now here he is, wallowing in the shallows, flashing his Read more >>
Carolyn Pettit Pinet
Ahead of me Hardscrabblecracks knuckles against clouds.Behind the Bridgers splaycrags in the oystery air.I move to a tango.Skies and poles glide, cut, break.I am partnered by the windagainst whom I tangle, kick.A flake catches my lash, Read more >>
Foster, John Clay
        The cows watch from the high point of the river,bulls, even buffalo are curious to see what the strange creatures are doingin the middle of the Madison, wading, some floating with guides. Read more >>
Krueger, Susan Krall
A languid horizon beckons the obliging sun to their ephemeral interludethe golden funnel softens as the dancers find their placesmagenta, azure, and crimson swirl in a tryst with cirrus nymphs,slowly the couples spiral toward the yellow-orange funnel of fire. Read more >>
Houston, Alice
This information was published summer 2011. Visit our events calendar for updated events.  Read more >>
Jack Jelinski
In February of 2009 “Mighty Bull Elk No. 9”tried to jump a fence,somersaulted onto his backand was pinned between large rockswith his trophy-sized antlers beneath him.He suffocated to death.In elk years he was in his seventies. Read more >>
Wink, Callan
Sometimes, when the fishing is especially goodwe stop the moment, the boat in the current.Stop casting,and start smiling.We say to each other,damn, it's like we're in Montana or something.Like this is the Yellowstone River Read more >>
Pogge, Drew
Anglers know, of all bug hatches hatched,There is one, in particular, that cannot be matchedSometime in June, once the sun warms the eddies,The Madison fills with wild, colorful BettiesNo two alike, these nymphs flitter and flutter, Read more >>
Keeler, Greg
Hi Honey, it's me. No, no don't worry, it's just August.We don't have to worry about that for a month or two. Yes, things are fine up here. When you're throughWith the kids, hoof it on up here and we'll mate, justDon't get sidetracked by our neighbor, Buck. I trust Read more >>
Keeler, Greg
It’s spring, timeto scare the bearsoff of the trash,hose the caterpillars out of their tents.Time to shovelthawed dog-blow out of the yardand pry the robinfrom the cat.It’s spring, timeto pick the first morels Read more >>
Keeler, Greg
I’ve seen a small god among the birds.It’s their grip on things. I’ve watched them evenafter death holding the wire, an absurdlittle foot clenched above, leavingthe rest to dangle the way of all flesh.Others worship here too: the snail, Read more >>
Keeler, Greg
Sometimes the food chain doesn’t look quite right.You’ve probably seen a couple of ants with a beetlein tow, a spider with a grasshopper. “You biteoff more than you can chew. You might be littlebut your eyes are big.” That’s what Grandma used Read more >>
Keeler, Greg
Nature calls in mysterious ways. It calls,for example, through the speakers ofa McDonald's drive-through or through the ballsof a bugling elk. The sheer dramatics of loveand death—of eating food or sneezing a sneeze— Read more >>
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