CavanKerryPress.org

buy the BOOK

$16.00

$12.80

Add to Cart

View Cart
Shopping Cart by
E-junkie

Email our Managing Editor, Starr Troup,
for special requests, such as:
- orders of more than 20 books
- expedited shipping
- shipping outside the US
Thank you for your support of CavanKerry Press.

BOOK DETAILS

Poetry
94 pp
6 x 9.25
Paperback
1-933880-02-3
978-1-933880-02-7
March 2007


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

Underlife,
by January Gill O'Neil

The Second Night of the Spirit, by Bhisham Bherwani

Imago,
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

Rattle,
by Eloise Bruce

Momentum,
by Catherine Doty

Silk Elegy,
by Sondra Gash

The Palace of Ashes,
by Sherry Fairchok

Eyelevel: Fifty Histories,
by Christopher Matthews

GLOrious,
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

Through a Gate of Trees

by Susan Jackson

Foreword by Molly Peacock

Through a Gate of TreesThrough a Gate of Trees is about the mental discipline it takes for a social being to insist on the difference between social bonds and being bound . . . The poems take place all over the world, yet wherever they are, the situations are domestic, and the stanzas flood with memory, with obligations, and with the dilemma of how to recognize what exists underneath the pleasant surface of things . . . —Molly Peacock

Brilliant. Beautiful. Written with wit and wisdom. The poems are sensual, serious, witty and deep. I highly recommend it. I can't praise this book enough.
—Marjory Bassett, Chair of the National Arts Club Literary Committee

Located exactly on the sharpened razor’s edge of vision ... so fine, uncompromising and exacting a gift ... —Deena Metzger

"I thought I had pierced / the world's secret language / with my broken stick," Susan Jackson writes, describing her younger self. Now the mature poet does just that in these perceptive, well crafted, and deeply felt poems. —Linda Pastan

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Susan JacksonSUSAN JACKSON serves on the Board of Directors of Poets & Writers, Inc.,and the National Arts Club Literary Committee. Before moving to New Jersey, she lived in France, Belgium, Portugal and Holland. She has received a fellowship grant from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts and a Geraldine R. Dodge Foundation residency grant to attend the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. Her work has been published in literary journals such as NIMROD and the Paterson Literary Review.

 

EXCERPT

The Man Who Could Not Talk About the War

He grabs her arm, seizing her from sleep
at three a.m. Don’t move.
There’s someone here. Next to us.
She looks into the darkness
then again to his face, filled now
with transparency, carried back
to the jungle, to the ambush.
It’s a dream, she tells him.
We’re all right. Go back to sleep.

He sinks back to silent breathing
until suddenly he flings his arm
across her shoulder. Stay where you are, he shouts.
This place is full of mines
.Help them, help them, but she cannot
see the bodies or hear the sounds they make.

She lies in the narrowness
of one side of the bed,
touching his hand until light
seeps through the window across the contour
of the no one who is there.
Waking, he reaches for her
and turning to him she thinks
of the things that can be shared:
a table, a bed.