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74 pp
6 x 9.25
November 2000

Emerging Voices

Misery Islands,
by January Gill O’Neil

Spooky Action at a Distance,
by Howard Levy

My Painted Warriors,
by Peggy Penn

Red Canoe: Love In Its Making, by Joan Cusack Handler

door of thin skins,
by Shira Dentz

The One Fifteen to Penn Station, by Kevin Carey

Where the Dead Are,
by Wanda S. Praisner

Darkening the Grass, by Michael Miller

Neighborhood Register,
by Marcus Jackson

Night Sessions,
by David S. Cho

by January Gill O'Neil

The Second Night of the Spirit, by Bhisham Bherwani

by Joseph O. Legaspi

WE AREN'T WHO WE ARE and this world isn't either,
by Christine Korfhage

Through a Gate of Trees,
by Susan Jackson

Against Which,
by Ross Gay

The Silence of Men,
by Richard Jeffrey Newman

The Dishelved Bed,
by Andrea Carter Brown

The Singers I Prefer,
by Christian Barter

The Fork Without Hunger,
by Laurie Lamon

An Imperfect Lover,
Poems and watercolors by Georgianna Orsini

Soft Box,
by Celia Bland

by Eloise Bruce

by Catherine Doty

Silk Elegy,
by Sondra Gash

The Palace of Ashes,
by Sherry Fairchok

Eyelevel: Fifty Histories,
by Christopher Matthews

by Joan Cusack Handler

So Close, by Peggy Penn

Snakeskin Stilettos,
by Moyra Donaldson

Grub, by Martin Mooney

Kazimierz Square,
by Karen Chase

A Day This Lit,
by Howard Levy

CavanKerry Press LTD.
CavanKerry Press

Kazimierz Square

by Karen Chase

Foreword by Amy Clampitt

Kazimierz SquareKaren Chase’s poems modulate from the humorous to the erotic, and then to the elegiac…All is held together by her skill and intensity. No line sleeps in these poems in which moments of real experience are isolated and made incandescent. —Billy Collins

An actual tour through Poland…culminated in the demonic astonishments of “Kazimierz Square,” the long poem that give this collection its title. Strong stuff it undoubtedly is…I have a natural admiration for the raw power of its demonic imagery. But that raw power ought not to mislead a reader as to the distinctive cadence of the language itself. Karen Chase’s gift for turning a phrase, her ear for the throaty music to be found in the lower registers of English speech, are uniquely hers, to be listened for with pleasure. —Amy Clampitt

Lyric and eros armed with a “tattered” shield of humor—Karen Chase is present in her life and our times. —Andrei Codrescu


Karen ChaseKAREN CHASE lives in the Berkshire Hills of Massachusetts. Her poems have appeared in many magazines, including The New Yorker, The New Republic and The Yale Review. Her collection of poems, Kazimierz Square, was short-listed by ForeWord Magazine for their 2000 Poetry Book of the Year Award. Her poems have been widely anthologized, including work in The Norton Introduction to Poetry and Billy Collins’ Poetry 180. Her non-fiction book, Land of Stone, was published by Wayne State University Press in March 2007.




Paul set the bags down, told how they had split
the deer apart, the ease of peeling it
simpler than skinning a fruit, how the buck
lay on the worktable, how they sawed
an anklebone off, the smell not rank.
The sun slipped into night.

Where are you I wondered as I grubbed
through cupboards for noodles at least.
Then came venison new with blood,
stray hair from the animal’s fur.
Excited, we cooked the meat.

Later, I dreamt against your human chest,
you cloaked me in your large arms, then
went for me the way you squander food sometimes.
By then, I was eating limbs in my sleep, somewhere
in the snow alone, survivor of a downed plane,
picking at the freshly dead. Whistles
Of a far off flute – legs, gristle, juice.
I cracked an elbow against a rock, awoke.
throughout the night, we consumed and consumed.