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Poetry Winter 2013    fiction    all issues

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Alysse Kathleen McCanna
Pentimento
& other poems

Peter Nash
Shooting Star
& other poems

Katherine Smith
House of Cards
& other poems

David Sloan
On the Rocks
& other poems

Alexandra Smyth
Exoskeleton Blues
& other poems

John Glowney
The Bus Stop Outside Ajax Bail Bonds
& other poems

Andrea Jurjević O’Rourke
It Was a Large Wardrobe...
& other poems

Lisa DeSiro
Babel Tree
& other poems

Michael Fleming
Reptiles
& other poems

Michael Berkowitz
As regards the tattoo on your wrist
& other poems

Michael Brokos
Landscape without Rest
& other poems

Michael H. Lythgoe
Orpheus In Asheville
& other poems

John Wentworth
morning people
& other poems

Christopher Jelley
Double Exposure
& other poems

Catherine Dierker
dinner party
& other poems

William Doreski
Hate the Sinner, Not the Sin
& other poems

Robert Barasch
Loons
& other poems

Rande Mack
bear
& other poems

Susan Marie Powers
Red Bird
& other poems

Anne Graue
Sky
& other poems

Mariah Blankenship
Tub Restoration
& other poems

Paul R. Davis
Landscape
& other poems

Philip Jackey
Garage drinking after 1989
& other poems

Karen Hoy
A Naturalist in New York
& other poems

Gary Sokolow
Underworld Goddess
& other poems

Michal Mechlovitz
The Early
& other poems

Henry Graziano
Last Apple
& other poems

Stephanie L. Harper
Unvoiced
& other poems

Roger Desy
anhinga
& other poems

R. G. Evans
Hangoverman
& other poems

Frederick L. Shiels
Driving Past the Oliver House
& other poems

Richard Sime
Berry Eater
& other poems

Jennifer Popoli
Generations in a wine dark sea
& other poems

Catherine Dierker

dinner party

a dishtowel tucked

in your back pocket


that i follow

as we walk


up the stairs

single file


a quiet entrance

shoes are removed


the humility of

standing in socks


before you

for the first time.



movie night

low light in the doorway

thin and pallid,

sourceless


a glow that works well

with the evening,

the mood


on screen a film plays

out in crimson,

it bleeds


this place calls for

something fragrant,

breathing


a flower.



cocktail hour

endless summer.

no socks and

pants rolled up


drink in hand

with one leg

crossed, casual.


he’s a cool

match for

a kid like me


calm-faced and

quiet, sits

like a listener


the picture

makes me

want to sing


or at least

to swing down

and kiss his


bare ankle.



window treatment

your fingers are deft

they fold clothes neatly


draw perfect flowers

cut fruit with precision


tonight, as you ready

the table, i sit waiting


watching the sun set

through a curtained window


like smiling through a veil.



a bike ride / the christening

together we crossed over

to a place of quiet, of peace


where we will swim

in the lake of endless depths.


the moment of diving

the hardest moment


the curve of restraint

the fear of violence.


shattering light,

shattering glass


we crossed over

flying, crying—


with wind

with gravel


hitting our faces

stinging our eyes.


Catherine Dierker studied English at George Washington University in Washington, DC and went on to earn a Master’s Degree in Anglo-Irish Literature from University College Dublin in Dublin, Ireland. Her master’s thesis was titled: “Joyce, Kierkegaard and Community.” Catherine lives and writes in Chicago, IL. She is currently applying for admission to law school.

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