. >> garrison keillor: toi derricotte grew up outside detroit. with the poet cornelius eady, she cofounded cave canem, an organization committed to cultivating and supporting the work of african american poets. she says, "truth telling in my art is also a way to separate myself from what i have been taught to believe about myself-- the degrading stereotypes about black women." >> blackbottom. when relatives came from out of town, we would drive down to blackbottom. drive slowly down the congested main streets-- beaubien and hastings-- trapped in the mesh of saturday night. we were freshly escaped, black middle class. we snickered and were proud; the louder the streets, the prouder. we laughed at the bright clothes of a prostitute; a man sitting on a curb with a bottle in his hand. we smelled barbecue cooking in dented washtubs and our mouths watered. as much as we wanted it, we couldn't take the chance. rhythm and blues came from the windows, the throaty voice of a woman lost in the bass, in the drums, in the dirty down and out-- the grind. ♪"i l

. >> garrison keillor: toi derricotte grew up outside detroit. with the poet cornelius eady, she cofounded cave canem, an organization committed to cultivating and supporting the work of african american poets. she says, "truth telling in my art is also a way to separate myself from what i have been taught to believe about myself-- the degrading stereotypes about black women." >> blackbottom. when relatives came from out of town, we would drive down to blackbottom. drive slowly down the congested main streets-- beaubien and hastings-- trapped in the mesh of saturday night. we were freshly escaped, black middle class. we snickered and were proud; the louder the streets, the prouder. we laughed at the bright clothes of a prostitute; a man sitting on a curb with a bottle in his hand. we smelled barbecue cooking in dented washtubs and our mouths watered. as much as we wanted it, we couldn't take the chance. rhythm and blues came from the windows, the throaty voice of a woman lost in the bass, in the drums, in the dirty down and out-- the grind. ♪"i l

. >> garrison keillor: maxine kumin lives on a farm in new hampshire where she breeds arabian and quarter horses writing poetry, four novels, more than 20 children's books. she says, "i don't want to write poems that aren't necessary. i want to write poems that matter." >> this is a little one called after love. afterward, the compromise. bodies resume their boundaries. these legs, for instance, mine. your arms take you back in. spoons of our fingers, lips admit their ownership. the bedding yawns, a door blows aimlessly ajar and overhead, a plane singsongs coming down. nothing is changed, except there was a moment when the wolf, the mongering wolf who stands outside the self lay lightly down, and slept. ( applause ) thank you. >> hello and welcome to global 3000. your weekly check on the global issues that support the world. tens of thousands of people had to abandon their homes in nicaragua. here is what is coming up. blessing or curse? nicaragua's plans for a strategic waterway. power or water? kenya looks for ways to make efficient use of its river. how japan is sailing its women in th

. >> garrison keillor: maxine kumin lives on a farm in new hampshire where she breeds arabian and quarterpoetry, four novels, more than 20 children's books. she says, "i don't want to write poems that aren't necessary. i want to write poems that matter." >> this is a little one called after love. afterward, the compromise. bodies resume their boundaries. these legs, for instance, mine. your arms take you back in. spoons of our fingers, lips admit their ownership. the bedding yawns, a door blows aimlessly ajar and overhead, a plane singsongs coming down. nothing is changed, except there was a moment when the wolf, the mongering wolf who stands outside the self lay lightly down, and slept. ( applause ) thank you. ♪ >>> single market would put one of its smallest members in a prime location. central banks are printing oceans of money. a former policymaker says watch out. and meet the match makers using big data and plenty of tissues. >>> hello, you're watching asia biz forecast. we start with a dream coming true. leaders in southeast asia are just nine months away from

. >> garrison keillor: maxine kumin lives on a farm in new hampshire where she breeds arabian and quarters writing poetry, four novels, more than 20 children's books. she says, "i don't want to write poems that aren't necessary. i want to write poems that matter." >> this is a little one called after love. afterward, the compromise. bodies resume their boundaries. these legs, for instance, mine. your arms take you back in. spoons of our fingers, lips admit their ownership. the bedding yawns, a door blows aimlessly ajar and overhead, a plane singsongs coming down. nothing is changed, except there was a moment when the wolf, the mongering wolf who stands outside the self lay lightly down, and slept. ( applause ) thank you. ♪ >>> in july, world bank president jim yong kim visited japan. he attended a symposium of young japanese entrepreneurs and urged them to lend their support to the world bank. >> we are serious about ending poverty and boosting shared prosperity for the people who have been left out of the global economy for far too long. >> reporter: wor

. >> garrison keillor: maxine kumin lives on a farm in new hampshire where she breeds arabian and quarteriting poetry, four novels, more than 20 children's books. she says, "i don't want to write poems that aren't necessary. i want to write poems that matter." >> this is a little one called after love. afterward, the compromise. bodies resume their boundaries. these legs, for instance, mine. your arms take you back in. spoons of our fingers, lips admit their ownership. the bedding yawns, a door blows aimlessly ajar and overhead, a plane singsongs coming down. nothing is changed, except there was a moment when the wolf, the mongering wolf who stands outside the self lay lightly down, and slept. ( applause ) thank you. >>> he warns there are tigers in the road. japan's leader is shaking up forming co-ops. it's the biggest reform in half a century. and meet the boilermaker who turned disaster into what could be a billion dollar deal. >>> we begin with efforts to revive growth in the two largest countries, china and india. the leaders have been playing out plans for dealing with a

thanky >> garrison keillor: seamus heaney grew up the eldest of nine children on a 50 acre farm in northern ireland, his father a cattle dealer, his mother's family worked in the linen mills. when he was 12, he won a scholarship to a catholic school, learned latin and gaelic. over the years, his poetry has become enormously popular, especially since he won the nobel prize in literature in 1995. >> blackberry picking. late august, given heavy rain and sun for a full week, the blackberries would ripen. at first, just one-- a glossy purple clot among others, red, green, hard as a knot. you ate that first one, and its flesh was sweet like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for picking. then red ones inked up and that hunger sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots. 'round hayfields, cornfields, and potato-drills we trekked and picked until the cans were full; until the tinkling bottom had been covered with green ones, and on top big, dark blobs burned like a plate of eyes. our hands were

garrison keillor: a native of michigan, bob hicok worked with cars and computers before becoming a teacher. he's the author of five books of poems, one of which, animal soul, was a finalist for the national book critics circle award. he says, "i can't separate what's serious "from what's funny. "i'd like the mix in my poems to reflect a range of emotions and ideas." this poem is called "calling him back from layoff." i called a man today. after he said hello and i said hello came a pause during which it would have been confusing to say hello again so i said how are you doing and guess what, he said fine and wondered aloud how i was and it turns out i'm ok. he was on the couch watching cars painted with ads for budweiser follow cars painted with ads for tide around an oval that's a metaphor for life because most of us run out of gas and settle for getting drunk in the stands and shouting at someone in a t-shirt we want kraut on our dog. i said he could have his job back and during the pause that followed his whiskers scrubbed the mouthpiece clean and his breath passed in and out in the tida

. >> garrison keillor: the nicaraguan author daisy zamora has written five books of poetry in spanish. during the 1970s, she joined with the revolutionaries who opposed the nicaraguan dictator anastasio somoza. after somoza was ousted, she became vice minister for culture for the new government. her poems, essays, and translations have been published in magazines and literary journals all over the world. >> i do not doubt you would have liked one of those pretty mothers in the ads-- complete with adoring husband and happy children. she's always smiling, and if she cries at all it is absent of lights and camera, makeup washed from her face. but since you were born of my womb, i should tell you ever since i was small like you i wanted to be myself-- and for a woman that's hard. (even my guardian angel refused to watch over me when she heard.) ( laughter ) i cannot tell you that i know the road. often, i lose my way and my life has been a painful crossing-- navigating reefs, in and out of storms, refusing to listen to the ghostly sirens who invite me into the past, neither compass nor bi

garrison keillor: rita dove was the youngest poet laureate of the united states and the first african american. she's published nine books of poetry, a novel, a play, essays and a book of short stories. among her many honors are the pulitzer prize and the national humanities medal. her poems draw on historical and political events, as well as sources close to her own experience, like ballroom dancing. "american smooth." we were dancing-- it must have been a foxtrot or a waz, something romantic but requiring restraint, rise and fall, precise execution as we moved into the next step without stopping, two chests heaving above a seven-league stride-- such perfect agony one learns to smile through, ecstatic mimicry being the sine qua non of american smooth. and because i was distracted by the effort of keeping my frame (the leftward lean, head turned just enough to gaze out past your ear and always smiling, smiling), i didn't notice how still you'd become until we had done it (for two measures? four?)-- achieved flight, that swift and serene magnificence, before the earth remembered who we

garrison keillor: kwame dawes was born in ghana and grew up in jamaica. he has published 13 books of poetry, many books of fiction, nonfiction and drama, and he's the author of the first in-depth study of the lyrics of bob marley. he teaches at the university of south carolina. he says of his poetry, "often i am not writing to describe what i have seen, but trying to voice what the work is stirring in me." "tornado child." tornado child, tornado child. i, i'm a tornado child. i come like a swirl of black and darken up your day; i whip it all up into my womb, lift you and your things, carry you where you've never been, and maybe, if i feel good, i might bring you back, all warm and scared, heart humming wild like a bird after early sudden flight. 'cause i'm a tornado child. i tremble at the elements. when thunder rolls my mother womb trembles, remembering the tweak of contractions that tightened to a wail when my mother pushed me out into the black of a tornado night. i'm a tornado child, you can tell us from far by the crazy of our hair; couldn't tame it

garrison keillor: a native of michigan, bob hicok worked with cars and computers before becoming a teacher he's the author of five books of poems, one of which, animal soul, was a finalist for the national book critics circle award. he says, "i can't separate what's serious "from what's funny. "i'd like the mix in my poems to reflect a range of emotions and ideas." this poem is called "calling him back from layoff." i called a man today. after he said hello and i said hello came a pause during which it would have been confusing to say hello again so i said how are you doing and guess what, he said fine and wondered aloud how i was and it turns out i'm ok. he was on the couch watching cars painted with ads for budweiser follow cars painted with ads for tide around an oval that's a metaphor for life because most of us run out of gas and settle for getting drunk in the stands and shouting at someone in a t-shirt we want kraut on our dog. i said he could have his job back and during the pause that followed his whiskers scrubbed the mouthpiece clean and his breath passed in and out in the tidal