"Letters Jim Harrison May Never Read." "Walt Whitman and His Lake Superior Baptism." "John Lennon at the Old Marquette Inn." "Chagall Taught Me How to Drive." These are some of the titles featured in Northern Michigan University English Professor Russell Thorburn's latest collection of poetry, And the Heart Will Not Quicken. The book is populated by imaginative scenarios featuring pop culture, artistic and literary legends who move freely across various decades and countries.

Thorburn will read from his book via Zoom at 7 p.m. Thursday, Jan. 22, as part of the Vespers Poetry series at First Unitarian Universalist Church of Detroit.

"This book really is about memory weaving everything together," said Thorburn. "Musicians like Richard Manuel and Bob Dylan, poets like Allen Ginsberg, Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Philip Levine - they all exist in the same imaginative space for me. I wanted to explore what happens when they meet, when their worlds overlap, even if that meeting only happens in a dream.

"These poems ask what happens when we let memory speak freely; when we invite the past into the room and see what it has to say. Sometimes the ideas for these poems wake me up in the middle of the night. There are people who surface repeatedly in my work and also places, such as Detroit, Paris and Mexico City."

The title of this book-the second in an interconnected trilogy-can be traced to poet William Everson, also known as Brother Antoninus, whose work profoundly affected Thorburn in his early '20s.

"I had his book with me during what I think of as my residual years," Thorburn said. "That line, 'the heart will not quicken,' jumped out at me. It stayed with me. When I need a title, I page through the books that shaped me, and sometimes a line just announces itself."

The book is also deeply musical - not just in its rhythms, but in how Thorburn has chosen to share it with audiences. Several of his readings have incorporated live, collaborative performances with musicians. Singer/songwriter Mike Waite joined him for a reading from the pier extending over Lake Superior during Art Week in Marquette. Saxophonist Patrick Booth and guitarist Dylan Trost provided the musical backdrop for a reading at Peter White Public Library.

NMU alumnus, poet and Pine author Jonathan Johnson offered praise for his friend in the following review: "I know of no living poet with a more wide-ranging fictive imagination than Russell Thorburn. His poetry is not like a novel; it's like seven or eight sometimes interconnected novels, plus a three-volume memoir. If you are new to these worlds of Thorburn, welcome! … If you've been reading Thorburn for many years, you'll find in this new book the good, familiar company of old friends and meet some irresistible new ones, too."

And the Heart Will Not Quicken was published by Cornerstone Press at the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point. Thorburn described the press' leadership, Ross and Brett Hill, as "heroes" for their support of his ongoing project. Cornerstone operates as a teaching press, pairing professional writers with student editors. It is a process he said he values deeply.

Thorburn is no stranger to literary leadership. He received a National Endowment for the Arts fellowship and was selected as the first Upper Peninsula Poet Laureate. His Jan. 22 virtual Vespers reading follows an earlier appearance with the group and aligns naturally with the reflective, spiritually inflected tone of And the Heart Will Not Quicken.

"Vespers feels like the right home for this book," Thorburn said. "There's a contemplative quality to these poems. As reflected in one of the titles, 'Edgar Allan Poe Might Be Listening.' You never know."

Watch Thorburn's reading on Zoom via this link. Here is a sample of his poetry from the book:

Walt Whitman and His Lake Superior Baptism

Memory mixes in with the first chill of the water.

He looks upon that blue of Lake Superior

like a mother's apron, and uses its clarity

to cleanse himself, direct his hand to point

toward a ledge of rock named Ripley.

The Civil War remains behind him with

his rucksack of journals, the words stripped.

Whitman peers down at his toes moving

over the sand underwater, its mirror

reflects his overweight body.

He fits his belly into this baptism,

allowing the cold to touch his knees, bruised

hips next, forcing his living breath

to meet the waves with his watery kiss.