fall 2012

Two Poems    Bradley Harrison
Emily as a Clue, a Message    Darren C. Demaree
Some People Are Sleeping and I am Blowing a Trumpet    C. Dylan Bassett
House of Magic Rocks    Cynthia Manick
Etymology     Laura Orem
Ringaround arosie    Peter Jay Shippy
You’ll need a canopener    Craig Kurtz
The Curvature of the Earth  Lucas Jacob
Two Poems   Jill McDonough
Autumn Dacha—Moskovskaya Oblast’   Resa Alboher
I Am The Richest Man in the World    Mark Heinlein
Two Poems   Mary Donnelly

 

Visuals by 
Michael Neary

Fall 2012.jpg
 

from the ether

 

On Endings
                                                                               
Fall has come and gone, the end of the world has come and gone, as has the shortest day of the year, and very soon, possibly before you read this, Christmas and New Year’s will take their places in time past as well. As all the wisdom of the ages suggests, this is how we get to new beginnings, a fresh start, rebirth—even a new year, 2013—through the goings, through the endings.

But not soooo fast. This issue of DMQ Review brings a selection from the poems we received over the months of fall 2012. Each poem represents some here-and-now, each an expression of lived life caught in words and image. The poems and the poets you meet here, each in their own time and place, have things to tell you if you will give them a few considered minutes of your time. . .

Poetry works to slow time’s passage, to hold a mercurial moment and find its shape in well-chosen language. Though our living comes and is gone, a poet works toward preservation, toward giving experience some enduring presence even as time continues onward. It’s actually magic. One of my favorite examples of this magic laid bare is Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18, a love poem to a woman now long-dead, but as her lover promises her,

                                    So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
                                    So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

“This,” of course, refers to the poem itself, the material of literature that remains outside time until met with a reader. Then it springs back to life and in this way reanimates the woman’s memory in the present. The poem, even Shakespeare’s ardor, begins all over again. And then it ends again. Like I said, magic. Try the same technique with each of the poems you read here. Read each aloud if you will. You become a co-creator of the poem as you reanimate time past.

In this way, endings give us a chance to begin all over again.

And while you’re reading, do make sure and read our Pushcart Prize nominations for 2012. Some issues will be found in the Archives. Here are this year’s nominees, in alphabetical order:

C. Dylan Bassett: “Some People Are Sleeping and I am Blowing a Trumpet.” Fall 2012
Brandel France de Bravo: “The Night Kitchen.” Summer 2012
Kathleen Hellen: “lex cesarean.” Spring 2012
Lisa Hiton: “The Senator.” Summer 2012
Laura Orem: “Etymology.” Fall 2012
Molly Peacock: “Authors [a poem in 9 screens].” Summer 2012

And in all things, happy endings, happy beginnings.

Sally Ashton,
Editor-in-Chief