Biography of Janet Cannon
Janet Cannon is from the Boston area originally, but she has lived in Manhattan, San Francisco, Taos, Tucson, and Seattle. She is a graduate of the University of Iowa where she also did graduate work.
Janet Cannon has been an editor at Scholastic Books, and a technical writer and editor at several major high-tech corporations. She has taught writing and language arts at the Taos Indian Pueblo, and oral history writing workshops at the NYC Public Library- Chelsea Branch. She has also taught English as a Second Language (ESL) courses at The New School in NYC, and community colleges in New York and New Mexico.
Janet’s poems have been published in many literary journals such as Berkeley Poetry Review (University of California) , The Midwest Quarterly (Pittsburgh State University) , Texas Review (Sam Houston State University) , New York Quarterly, and G.W. Review (George Washington University) —among others. She has received awards from ASCAP, the Rio Grande Writers Association, and Bless Me Anima.
Janet is the author of one published full-length poetry collection The Last Night in New York (Homeward Press) , and the chapbook Percipience (Cross Cut Saw Press, now CC. Marimbo) . Janet’s chapbook Dinner for Two is a quarter finalist in the 2015 Mary Ballard Poetry Chapbook Prize. She has read her poems and performed via singing the spoken word all over the United States.
Janet Cannon's Web site is: http: //www.IsleWrite.com
Janet Cannon's Works:
percipience (chapbook published by Cross Cut Saw Press, now CC. Marimbo)
the last night in new york (poetry book published by Homeward Press)
Janet Cannon Poems
At Six Thirty Sharp
we meet by the fresh orange juice stand at port authority we
phoning at eleven solstice day having bought hay from a neighbor to seal freeze-up winds
Cry Of The Crocuses
in the back yard garden under the kitchen window the crocuses have arrived donned in deep purple
rambling country road geese, sheep cows, horses
when they removed her baby panda dead in captivity
when they removed
her baby panda
dead in captivity
ling ling cradled
an apple as if
nothing had changed
as if the universe
hadn’t thwarted her
as if the small
spherical fruit was
the lonesome frog
who needed a kiss