Poem by Steve Klepetar

Working by Floodlight

Early sunset,
and now we set about to dig a trench
working by floodlight in descending chill.
Amazing how quietly we work
considering the grate of spades and shovels
striking cold dirt, and occasional gulps of air
as one after another leans back for a quick rest.
Shadows bend and stretch in mockery, long,
thin mimics at the edge of sight.
Who has asked us here, set this blistering task?
Questions blur and rise, steam and smoke and breath.
Compulsion sings in our veins like a drug,
even when one of us strikes rock and we gather
to dig it free, tear hard smoothness from the grip of earth.

Steve Klepetar’s work has received several nominations for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. His latest collections include Speaking to the Field Mice (Sweatshoppe Publications), Blue Season (with Joseph Lisowski, mgv2>publishing) and My Son Writes a Report on the Warsaw Ghetto (Flutter Press). An e-chapbook, Return of the Bride of Frankenstein, is forthcoming from Kind of a Hurricane Press.

Allison Goldin is an artist living in Cambridge. Her work is a collection of spontaneous drawings from the imagination. The most common link throughout her art are the semi-recognizable creatures scattered amongst and bringing together the surrounding doodles. She is currently studying Illustration at The School of Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.