He reads his poem,
hands thick and shaking.
He could never be a surgeon
even if he got clean enough.

What he does with those hands--
reaching for the blade when the doe goes down,
squeezing the wheel when we argue,
taming the pen for scrawl --
are never gentle things.

His words fall in the straw and I
imagine giving in altogether,
letting him
operate on me,
knowing he would fill my belly
with sharp consonants and scars,
stitch me roughly
and let me go.

Summer 2004 Issue

Winter 2004

Summer 2003 Issue

Editor's Note


SNR's Writers


Barbara DeCesare has a permit to carry a concealed weapon and a poem forthcoming in the August issue of Poetry.  She is a 2003 Pushcart Prize nominee and the Poet Laureate of 8th biggest rock n’ roll radio show in the nation at WIYY 97.9, Baltimore.  Her poems have found homes in The Evansville Review, Gargoyle, River Styx, Alaska Quarterly Review, and many other journals.  Her book of poems jigsaweyesore (Anti-Man Press 1999) was called “what thunder looks like in writing” by The Baltimore Sun.  Please visit http//www.emster.com./BarbaraDeCesare for audio samples and, if you can find the hidden link, a dirty photo.

Copyright 2004, Barbara DeCesare. This work is protected under the U.S. copyright laws. It may not be reproduced, reprinted, reused, or altered without the expressed written permission of the author.