May 7, 6:30pm | RHINO at Evanston Lit Fest!


Join us at the Evanston Literary Festival this Saturday, May 7 from 6:30-8 pm! Readings from RHINO 2016 poets Pam Miller, Max Barry, Jim Warner, and Ann Hudson, as well as RHINO editors Ralph Hamilton, Kenyatta Rogers, Jacob Saenz, and Angela Narciso Torres.

Sidetracked Studio, 707 Chicago Ave., Evanston


April 30, 2016 — RHINO at The Bookstall Celebration of National Independent Bookstores Day

the book stall
We’re so pleased to celebrate National Independent Bookstores Day at The Book Stall.  From their website: “Please join us for a day of prizes and surprises including give-aways, author conversations, snacks and games….in short something for readers of all ages.”


811 Elm Street, Winnetka, IL

3-4:00 RHINO Booth

RHINO Writes! Poems To Go. Three RHINO editors will be on hand to write poems on demand for a small donation of $5! Also, pick up your fresh copy of RHINO 2016, along with free RHINO swag, buttons, and bookmarks. Learn more about our ongoing events join our email list.


4:00-4:30  Reading from RHINO 2016 contributors and RHINO editors
RHINO Reads! Book Stall

J. Max Barry is an Evanston native currently working, writing, and folding origami in Chicago. A poem of his was included in the anthology, A Writers’ Congress: Chicago Poets on Barack Obama’s Inauguration. He has recently written a critical analysis of hand imagery in Emily Dickinson’s poems.


Virginia Bell is the author of From the Belly (Sibling Rivalry Press 2012).  Her poems have been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and have appeared in Fifth Wednesday, Rogue Agent, Gargoyle, Cider Press ReviewSpoon River Poetry ReviewPoet Lore, and other journals and anthologies.  She was a finalist for the 2016 Lamar York Prize in Creative Nonfiction and she is a Senior Editor with Rhino Poetry, an adjunct professor at Loyola University Chicago and DePaul University, and the recipient of a Ragdale Foundation residency. 


Gail Goepfert – Gail Goepfert is a poet, amateur photographer, and teacher.  Currently, she is an associate editor of RHINO Poetry and teaches online English courses for Rasmussen College.  Her first chapbook, A Mind on Pain, was released by Finishing Line Press in early in 2015.   Twice she’s received Pushcart nominations.  Recent publications include Blue Lyra, Crab Orchard and Jet Fuel Reviews, Florida English, Examined Life Journal, and Room Magazine.  Her photographs appear online at the Chicago Botanic Garden, Olentangy Review, 3Elements Review and on the cover of February 2015 Rattle.  She lives, writes, and snaps photos in the Chicagoland area.  


Ann Hudson‘s first book, The Armillary Sphere, was chosen by Mary Kinzie for the Hollis Summers Prize and was published by Ohio University Press. Her poems have recently appeared or are forthcoming in Chautauqua, Cider Press Review, Crab Orchard Review, North American Review, Orion, Rhino, Spoon River Poetry Review, Seattle Review, and elsewhere. She lives in Evanston, and teaches at Chiaravalle Montessori School.


Dipika Mukherjee’s poetry publications include “The Third Glass of Wine” (Kolkata: Writer’s Workshop, 2015) and “The Palimpsest of Exile” (Edmonton: Rubicon Press, 2009). Her work appears in publications around the world including Asia Literary Review, World Literature Today, Rhino, Chicago Quarterly Review, Postcolonial Text and South Asian Review. She has won multiple awards for her fiction, including the Virginia Prize for Fiction for her second novel “Shambala Junction” (UK, 2016), The Gayatri GaMarsh Award for Literary Excellence (USA, 2015), and the Platform Flash Fiction Prize (India, 2009).  She is Contributing Editor for Chicago Quarterly Review and Jaggery and curates an Asian/American Reading Series in Chicago.


Angela Narciso Torres’s first book, Blood Orange, won the Willow Books Literature Award for Poetry. Recent work appears or is forthcoming in Kyoto Review, Spoon River Poetry Review, Colorado Review, and Drunken Boat. A graduate of Warren Wilson MFA Program for Writers and the Harvard Graduate School of Education, Angela has received fellowships from the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, Illinois Arts Council, and Ragdale Foundation. Born in Brooklyn and raised in Manila, she serves as a senior poetry editor for RHINO, a publicity coordinator for Woman Made Gallery Literary Events, and a reader for New England Review.

RHINO at #AWP16 Issue Launch Reading & Open Mic 3/31 featuring JoAnn Balingit, Aricka Foreman, Tim Hillegonds, Safia Jama, Sarah Katz, Kyle McCord, Justin Phillip Reed, and Cintia Santana


AWP16Thumbnail rhino40a 16_Rhino_Cover_mock.indd

Los Angeles, CA – March 30 – April 2, 2016

Associated Writers and Writing Programs Conference (AWP)
RHINO’s Bookfair table number is 1264 – Come celebrate our 40th year!
New t-shirts, our famous bookmarks and pins, and discounts galore!
Follow us @rhinopoetry w #poetrychangeseverything for discounts & prizes!

Hygge-Bakery-Exterior-460x640RHINO 2016 Issue Launch Party – Poetry Reading and Open Mic*

5-7 pm, Thursday, March 31 |Hygge Bakery Downtown Los Angeles

1106 S. Hope Street

Join us for a reading and open mic* celebrating 40 years of RHINO and kicking off our “40 Readings in 40 Cities” initiative! A perfect opportunity to grab a snack or light meal and hear some amazing poetry before heading out for evening events.

Featured Readers:

JoAnn Balingit

Aricka Foreman

Tim Hillegonds

Safia Jama

Sarah Katz

Kyle McCord

Justin Phillip Reed

Cintia Santana

Hygge features a fantastic array of authentic European pastries, sandwiches, and Lavazza coffee and is just a 7-minute walk from the Convention Center.

*All current or former RHINO poets are invited to read a poem at the open mic (spots will be limited, so we’ll take sign-ups at our Bookfair table 1264.)

Meet RHINO editors and poets, purchase a copy of our new issue, and have a piece of birthday cake with us!

In addition to their RHINO duties, our editors can be found at the following #AWP16 events:

Kenyatta Rogers: Friday, April 1, 2016 1:30 pm to 2:45 pm  ||  F217. Room 501, LA Convention Center, Meeting Room Level

Angela Narciso Torres:  Thursday, March 31 10:30am – 11:45am || R134   Location: Gold Salon 3, JW Marriott LA, 1st Floor

Creating Opportunities for Writers of Color: A Continued Urgency

Valerie Wallace: Friday April 1st. 4:00 pm || The Last Bookstore, 453 S Spring St., Los Angeles

POOL, SMC MFA, AND WAVE BOOKS READING  Featuring: Featuring: Molly Bendall, Candace Eros Díaz, Brenda Hillman, Tyehimba Jess, Valerie Wallace, Juan Alvarado Valdivia, and Matthew Zapruder



RHINO at Chicago Book Expo 11-21-15 Meet the editors, pick up swag, and special reading @ 4pm with Kyle Churney, Joe Eldridge, Chris Green, Katie Hartsock, Ladan Osman, Pablo Otavalo, Kenyatta Rogers, Jacob Saenz, Angela Narciso Torres, Donna Vorreyer, Valerie Wallace, Rachel Webster, Keith Wilson


Join us Saturday, November 21, 2015

Chicago Book Expo

Columbia College Chicago, 1104 E Wabash Avenue

11- 4: Stop by our table to pick up one of our beautiful annual journals, famous bookmarks, poetry t-shirts, and more! 
4-5:30: We’re staging a 40th anniversary reading with poets from past issues!
Emceed by editors Kenyatta Rogers and Jacob Saenz
Kyle Churney
Joe Eldridge
Chris Green
Katie Hartsock
Ladan Osman
Pablo Otavalo
Kenyatta Rogers
Jacob Saenz
Angela Narciso Torres
Donna Vorreyer
Valerie Wallace
Rachel Webster
Keith Wilson

Save the date!

#chibook15 #rhinopoetry

RHINO at Evanston Lit Fest! May 16 and 17, 2015


We’re thrilled to be a featured event (2 events) at the inaugural Evanston Lit Fest!

Saturday, May 16
RHINO 2015 issue reading – featuring poets & editors from RHINO 2015
John McCarthy
Ruth Goring
Lisa Croneberg
Heather Cox
Bill Yarrow
Virginia Bell
Helen Degen Cohen
Angela Narciso Torres
with Dina Elenbogen (RHINO 2010)
3 – 4:30 pm 
Creative Coworking
922 Davis Street
Sunday, May 17
Workshop and critique, with Jenene Ravesloot and Tom Roby IV
Evanston Public Library
Church & Orrington
1:30-4:30 — ROOM 108 – Small Meeting Room


RHINO poets at WHY THERE ARE WORDS – Sausalito, CA July 10, 2014

July 10 collage
RHINO is a feature in the popular WHY THERE ARE WORDS Literary Reading Series in Sausalito, CA on July 10, 2014!
Thank you, Peg Alford Pursell, founder and curator of this reading series.
Doors open at 7pm; readings begin at 7:15.
1. Kevin Simmonds – RHINO 2012
2. Karen Llagas – RHINO 2012
3. Cintia Santana – RHINO 2014
4. Julia Levine – RHINO 2014
5. Roy Mash – RHINO 2009
6. Daniel Suarez – RHINO 2012
7. Angela Narciso Torres – Senior Editor of RHINO
Why There Are Words, curated by founder Peg Alford Pursell, draws a full house of Bay Area residents every second Thursday of the month. Studio 333 is located at 333 Caledonia Street, Sausalito, CA 94965. Phone Studio 333 at 415-331-8272.



#RHINO events at the #AWP14 Conference & Bookfair in Seattle, Washington

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Seattle, WA – February 27-March 1, 2014
Associated Writers and Writing Programs Conference (AWP)

RHINO’s Bookfair table number is: BB14

PANEL Friday, Feb. 28, 1:45 to 2:45 pm – RHINO – 37 Years of Charging Forward

Room 2B, Washington State Convention Center, Level 2.

Eclectic, edgy, and fiercely independent, RHINO boasts a vibrant community of readers, writers, and donors, plus a table of volunteer editors who’ve developed a unique collaborative process that works. From its roots as a writers’ group forum, RHINO has grown into a nationally-known print journal with a strong online presence. Our lively panel of editors will share what we’ve learned and how we do it, with frank discussion of the sometimes risky steps we’ve taken to showcase the work we love.

Virginia Bell is a senior editor with RHINO Poetry and an adjunct professor of English at Loyola University Chicago. She is the author of From the Belly, and her poems have appeared in Spoon River Poetry Review, Poet LoreCalyxPebble Lake ReviewWicked Alice, and in anthologies.

Janice Bottiglieri is a managing editor of RHINO. She recently published a chapbook, Where Gravity Pools the Sugar.

Ralph Hamilton (Moderator) is editor of RHINO. His poems have appeared in Court Green,CutBank, and Blackbird. His first book, Subtle Knot, will be published in 2015. He serves on the Ragdale Foundation’s board and is Fifth Wednesday’s 2013 poetry prize judge.

Jacob Saenz’s poetry has been published in Poetry, Great River Review, and OCHO. He has been recipient of a Letras Latinas Residency and a Ruth Lilly Poetry Fellowship. He currently serves as an associate editor for RHINO and works at a library in Chicago.

Angela Narciso Torres’s book, Blood Orange, won the Willow Books Lit Award in poetry. Recent work appears in Cimarron, Colorado, and Cream City Reviews. A senior editor for RHINO, she has received fellowships from Ragdale and the Illinois Arts Council.

In addition, you’ll find editors signing their books at our table BB14 and reading at these off-site events:


Thursday, February 27

1:30-2:30  pm. Angela Narciso Torres – book signing (Blood

        Orange) – AWP Bookfair, RHINO table BB14.
5:00-9:00 pm.  Angela Narciso Torres – reading with  Willow Books Authors, Seattle Public Library.
blue_cover_rhino_2009Friday, February 28, 2014
10-12 Andrea Witzke Slot – book signing (To Find a New Beauty) – Gold Wake Press table K28
4:30 to 5:45 pm Calyx: Tribute to Margarita Donnelly
 Angela Narciso Torres, Panelist
Room 302, Level 3, Western New England MFA Annex, at the Seattle Convention Center


6:30 pm to 8:30 pm Everyone and Their Mother: SRP at the Nitelite Lounge
Nitelite Lounge, 1920 2nd Ave. Seattle, WA 98101Cost: No cover. Food/Drinks are Cash Only.
Bryan Borland & Seth Pennington host multiple Sibling Rivalry Press authors and launch SRP’s Spring 2014 lineup in this cash only dive bar. Featuring RHINO editors and poets Virginia Bell, Ralph Hamilton, and other writers from Sibling Rivalry Press

7-9 pm   Andrea Witzke Slot at Gold Wake Press reading at Cafe Fonte

Saturday, March 1
1:30-2:30 Jan Bottiglieri – book signing (Where Gravity Pools the Sugar) – table BB14

RHINO Reads! Open mic & featured readers YZ Chin and Angela Narciso Torres 9-27-13


Open Mike        6:00 pm – 6:30 pm

Featured Poets        6:45 pm – 7:30 pm

Brothers K

500 Main St.



YZ Chin is a Malaysian poet and fiction writer, currently living in New York. Her first chapbook of poems was published in July by dancing girl press.

Angela Narciso Torres’s first book of poetry, Blood Orange, won the Willow Books Literature Award for Poetry and will be available from Aquarius Press later this month. A graduate of Warren Wilson MFA Program for Writers and the Harvard Graduate School of Education, Angela has received fellowships from the Illinois Arts Council, Ragdale Foundation, and Midwest Writing Center. Born in Brooklyn and raised in Manila, she currently resides in Chicago, where she serves as a senior poetry editor for RHINO.

“Every translation enlarges the possibilities…” – Interview with Jose Edmundo Ocampo Reyes

“Every translation enlarges the possibilities of the target language’s poetic tradition.”

José Edmundo Ocampo Reyes

Associate editor Angela Narciso Torres interviewed José Edmundo Ocampo Reyes, winner of the 2011 RHINO Translation Prize for his translation from the Tagalog of “Song of Hong Kong” by Filipino poet Cirilo F. Bautista. This interview was conducted April 30, 2011.




AT: At the participants’ reading the Napa Valley Writers’ Conference where we met almost 8 years ago, you read two translations of poems written by a mutual teacher of Filipino literature, the esteemed Filipina poet Benilda Santos. How long have you been translating, and what got you started?

JR: I first got into translating formally about ten years ago, during the last semester of my MFA. Before enrolling in the program, I had viewed it simply as an opportunity to hone my craft as a writer of poetry in English and to fill in the gaps in my literary education, particularly my knowledge of Western literature. Translating was the last thing on my mind.

Having been raised in a household that spoke mainly English, and, on occasion, Spanish, I was, and still am, much more comfortable with English than I am with Tagalog. I effectively grew up as the Filipino equivalent of a limited English proficient student, a stranger in what should have been a familiar land. I remember staring blankly at a test in first grade, asking my seatmates what to do, since I couldn’t understand the words on the mimeographed sheet. In high school, we had to memorize excerpts from works like the epic Florante at Laura (Florante and Laura) and recite them in front of the class. Though I could understand some of the words in isolation, their Tagalog was so deep that memorizing these texts was like memorizing strings of random syllables. When it was my turn to get in front of the class, I would stumble over the first two or three lines before having to go back to my desk, humiliated. Given all my struggles with the language, I was content to immerse myself (with a few exceptions) in literature written in and translated into English, from my elementary school days until well into my MFA.

What changed? As one of two foreign-born poets in my MFA class, and the only one not previously educated in the United States, I began to realize that literatures from the Philippines, whether, to use the terminology of Deleuze and Guattari, the “minor literature” of Philippine literature in English or literature written in another Philippine language like Tagalog, were unknown. Thus, the only authors I could discuss with my classmates were generally Western authors. This was in contrast to the time I was still living in the Philippines, when both Philippine writers in English and foreign authors were regular subjects of conversations with my writer-friends.

When my professor, the poet, translator, and editor Richard Howard, offered a translation seminar during my final semester, I immediately saw this as an opportunity to bring Filipino poets into American readers’ consciousness. Though this meant that I would have to wrestle with a language that has given me trouble all my life, I nonetheless felt that it was important for me to try to reclaim the tongue that I had, in a sense, forsaken. Translating Filipino poetry was something I felt had to be done, not only for my tradition, but also for myself.

AT: You have been a two-time recipient of the Der-Hovanessian Translation Prize from the New England Poetry Club.  Considering that you translate from your native tongue, and that you do it exceptionally well, how important would you regard one’s fluency in the poem’s original language, in making a successful translation?

JR: If my experience is any indication, it’s not. That may seem a bit flippant, but in many respects, I’m the last person who should be doing this. When I read a poem for the first time in Tagalog, I often don’t fully comprehend it. I may have a rough idea of what is happening, and some lines may be perfectly clear to me, but there could be gaps in meaning that I will need to fill with the help of dictionaries or friends. Translation, then, becomes for me an act of discovering a poem’s meaning. It also becomes a risk, because I may not know if the translation I produce is worth sharing to the world until I work my way to the end of the poem. But even in these cases, the effort is not wasted, because it helps improve my fluency with the language and my understanding of the tradition.

This isn’t to say that I undervalue precision or ignore what the author may have been trying to accomplish for a Tagalog-speaking audience. If I feel I have a translation that I think is worthy of being sent out into the world, I show it to the original poet whenever possible. But as G. K. Chesterton once claimed, “If a thing’s worth doing, it’s worth doing badly.” That’s exactly how I feel about my own experience translating Tagalog poetry. I don’t know that my translations are successful, especially given my limitations with the language. If someone published flawed translations of, say, Rilke, that person would be criticized, largely because there’s already a large body of masterful translations to which his work would be compared, translations that have collectively brought such poets into the world’s consciousness. But in the case of Tagalog poetry in translation, there isn’t a lot being published in the United States. I hope that because of this absence, a lot of my translations’ faults will be forgiven, and that other translations sprout up, even and especially ones that are superior to my own.

AT: In Cirilo Bautista’s, “Song of Hong Kong,” the poem’s elegant two-part  structure is provided by the speaker’s inventive translation of Hong Kong’s first and last name into “Water” and “Money,” respectively.  Bautista uses these extended metaphors to evoke, in a lyrical voice the poem’s title suggests, a compelling sense of place, while making commentary on social, economic, cultural, race, and identity issues of an earlier Hong Kong.  What drew you to the task of translating this aesthetically complex and multi-layered poem?

JR: “Song of Hong Kong” had me at its first two lines—“The first name of Hong Kong / is Water”—and propelled me forward with its short, energetic, often enjambed lines that enact the movements of water and money in the poem. Though the word doesn’t appear in the translation, I feel the poem embodies the meaning of current, which is etymologically related to currency (as Bautista writes, “Water that has become / Money…”). Like you, I love the poem’s various currents that converge in mysterious ways, from the in medias res beginning that places the reader in the middle of the choppy waters of Victoria Harbour, to the depiction of the streets of Kowloon, to the meditations on the simultaneous permanence and anonymity of labor (“How many have died / working stone that / rose into skyscrapers?”), to the surreal image at the end of “stars / at the bottom of the sea / unable to weep.”

On a more personal note, before coming to the U.S., I lived and worked in Hong Kong—in finance, of all fields, which by definition involves money—for over three years. I held in my hands the currency, the “paper, green / or blue” (or, in the case of the HK$100 bill, red) issued by one of three banks, HSBC, Standard Chartered or the Bank of China—an interesting aspect of Hong Kong’s monetary system—and used it for my day-to-day transactions. One word I might use to describe the place is efficient. The Hong Kong I remember is a well-oiled machine—both its people, who go about their business day in and day out, and its infrastructure—so much so that when I left for Manila a few days before the Handover in 1997 and came back a few days after, there didn’t seem to be any significant change. For instance, its currency was still pegged to the U.S. dollar (it still is, by the way, at roughly the same exchange rate as when I left in 2000), and people, both the locals and the expats, acted as if nothing had happened. Though Bautista’s poem predates my sojourn, I think it captures very well the efficiency that was once part of my reality.

Victoria Harbour

Since my family and most of my friends were in the Philippines at the time, I spent many hours in solitude, with no companion but Hong Kong itself, and became intimately acquainted with landmarks that find their way into Bautista’s poem. I crossed Victoria Harbour countless times by ferry; though it was a more time-consuming mode of transportation than the subway, I looked forward to gazing at the skyline, the lapping waters. I often walked past the Standard Chartered building in Central, a narrow skyscraper with a distinctively beige color and topped by a narrow slab that, so I’ve been told, was added for no other reason than to ensure that the building would be taller than the adjacent building of its rival bank, HSBC. On weekends I might take the tram up Victoria Peak, and admire the view of the city’s skyscrapers and harbor. Or go to an art cinema in Wan Chai, where the race track is located. And at night, after a long day at the office, I would go home to my apartment in Ap Lei Chau, an island just off the coast of Hong Kong, and looking out my living room window at the South China Sea, in the general direction of the Philippines, I would leave the worries of the workplace behind. So when Bautista writes of the

ten thousand



[that] come and go—

without any kin

save for stars

at the bottom of the sea,

unable to weep,

those lines really resonate with me, as I once was one of these souls. At the risk of sounding trite, translating the poem brought me back to a place that I remember fondly.

AT: Just as there are many English words that have no equivalent in Tagalog (for instance, Bautista uses the English word “ferry” in his poem), several Tagalog words have no direct English counterpart.  Did you encounter any such linguistic complications in translating “Song of Hong Kong”?

JR: Early in the poem, Bautista writes:

…pareho ang saligang-batas

ng gatas, pindang-pindang

lagi ang prutas at baboy

sa makinang tuloy-tuloy ang tahol.

Translated literally, these two clauses might look like this:

…identical the constitution

of milk, lots of jerkies

always the fruits and pork

in the machines with continuous howling.

In English, it’s customary for the predicate adjective or noun to come at the end of a clause. In Tagalog, though, it’s the reverse. The first clause begins with the adjective pareho, which means “identical, the same, equal.” Saligang-batas is the fundamental law of the land, the constitution. But when the phrase gets completed in the next line with ng gatas, “of milk,” things get really complicated and interesting. What is the “constitution of milk?” Is it the fact that milk is our original source of sustenance? Is it the idea that we all milk each other dry? That being milked dry is a fundamental part of the human condition? In a poem that derives a lot of its power from a series of confident, direct declarations, this one phrase is like a lenticular image that changes, depending on the angle from which it is viewed. And I think that having a phrase that I can’t quite fully wrap my head around in the published translation (I decided to go with the Old English “law” that “all are subject to,” rather than the Latinate “constitution,” since there’s something more primal, more fundamental about this monosyllable) is fine, creating a sense of mystery.

The next clause was even more challenging. In Tagalog, a writer can intensify a noun or adjective simply by repeating it, something you cannot do in English. For instance, pindang means “jerky,” so pindang-pindang suggests a profusion of jerkies, quintessentially Chinese delicacies. Tuloy means “to go ahead,” so tuloy-tuloy means “continuously.” What’s tricky about this clause is that syntactically, “jerkies” is the predicate noun, so it belongs at the end, e.g., “the fruits and pork in the continuously howling machines are always lots of jerkies.” That just doesn’t sound right. I felt that it was important to try to replicate the placement of the ideas in the clause, that it was more important to start with the visual image of jerkies and end with the continuously howling (in anguish? in pain? in joy?) machines, than the other way around. I decided to translate makina into “machinations,” which is etymologically related to the more literal “machines,” but also carries the idea of device, a deep-seated conspiracy or plot. But what to do with the fruits and pork? I stumbled across the phrase “swinish fruits,” which admittedly is my own, but I’d like to think that this image is consonant with the overall experience of the original poem.

AT: I imagine that translators often feel pulled by the opposing forces of translating a poem’s literal sense and creating an effective poem. Where do you stand along that continuum?

If I may, I don’t know that it is a continuum. I think a translation must be an effective poem in its own right; whether it is literally accurate or not is a separate issue. But keep in mind that translation acts as a bridge between two different two poetic traditions. What may be permissible in one tradition may be eschewed in another, at least until translation happens. Perhaps it may be better to say that every translation enlarges the possibilities of the target language’s poetic tradition.


José Edmundo Ocampo Reyes was born and raised in the Philippines, and holds degrees from Ateneo de Manila and Columbia Universities. His poems and translations have appeared in various journals, including American Literary Review, Crab Orchard Review, Pleiades, Subtropics, and Two Lines.Two of his other translations of Dr. Bautista’s poems can be found in Poetry International.

Cirilo F. Bautista, author of several books in English and Tagalog, is Professor Emeritus of Literature and University Fellow at De La Salle University-Manila, Philippines. His epic poem The Trilogy of Saint Lazarus, portions of which have been published in such journals as TriQuarterly, Manoa, and World Literature Today, received several honors, including the Palanca Award, the Philippine National Book Award, and the Philippine Government-sponsored Centennial Literary Award. He was awarded an honorary fellowship in creative writing from the State University of Iowa, and was a visiting writer at Cambridge University.


RHINO Reads! Open Mic and Featured Poets Ann Hudson, Deb Ryel, Cassie Sparkman, Laura Van Prooyen, and Angela N. Torres 4-29-11

Ann Hudson
Deborah E. Ryel
Cassie Sparkman
Laura Van Prooyen
Angela Narciso Torres

Open Mike        6:00 pm – 6:30 pm

Featured Poets       6:45 pm – 7:30 pm

Brothers K

500 Main St.

Evanston, IL


Ann Hudson grew up in Charlottesville, Virginia. Her poems have appeared in many literary journals including Crab Orchard Review, Iris, North American Review, Prairie Schooner, and The Seattle Review.She is the author of The Armillary Sphere, Winner of the 2005 Hollis Summers Poetry Prize.

Deb Ryel started school in Rochester, N.Y. where her great grandfather was a horse trader and her mother was a seamstress.  She spent a college year in Paris and received her Masters degree from the University of Southern California.  She now lives in Warrenville, Illinois.  Her poems have appeared in The Prairie Light Review, The Writer, The Spoon River Quarterly, The River Oak Review, Korone and in three anthologies, The Thing about Love is…, The Thing about Second Chances is…, and The Thing about Hope is….

Cassie Sparkman is the Poet in Residence at Alexander Graham Bell School. She received her MFA in poetry from the University of Washington. Her poetry can be seen most recently in Cimarron Review, 32 Poems, American Poetry Journal, The Laurel Review, Story South, and Pebble Lake Review. Her poems have also appeared on the Verse Daily web site. Her work has been nominated for two Pushcart Prizes. Cassie has also been a featured reader at poetry readings in Seattle, Athens, OH, and in Chicago, and is a trained performance artist. Cassie also teaches with the Evanston Arts Camps and After School Matters.
Laura Van Prooyen‘s first collection of poetry, Inkblot and Altar, was published by Pecan Grove Press.  Recent work is forthcoming or appears in 32 Poems, Boston Review, The Greensboro Review, and No Tell Motel, among others.  She is a graduate of the M.F.A. Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College.
Angela N. Torres grew up in Manila, Philippines.  A graduate of the Warren Wilson MFA Program, her poems appear in many journals, including the Filipina anthology Going Home to a Landscape. Her first book manuscript, “The Photographer’s Daughter,” was named a semi-finalist for the 2010 Philip Levine Prize in Poetry and a  semi-finalist for the 2011 Crab Orchard Series in Poetry Open Competition.