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Steve Klepetar


Steve Klepetar’s work has appeared in nine countries, in such journals as Boston Literary Magazine, Deep Water, Antiphon, Red River Review, Snakeskin, Ygdrasil, and many others.  Several of his poems have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net.  Recent collections include Speaking to the Field Mice (Sweatshoppe Publications, 2013), My Son Writes a Report on the Warsaw Ghetto (Flutter Press, 2013) and Return of the Bride of Frankenstein (Kind of a Hurricane Press).


His language is simple
but his pain complex,
with intricate layers of aches

and throbs. Think of a circle
inside of which is a smaller
one, and another and another

all the way down to a tight
core, a radiating point of agony.
Then imagine that system

moving, an island unmoored
in a vast and shifting sea.
All night he dreams of birds

hurling their hollow bones
beneath a cliff, and a man
chained there, looking down

as water boils white below.
The birds are black or brown
or gray, and filled with rage.

They fish with bloody beaks,
filling the sky with screams.
Suffering, he composes a song:

a ship and a woman whose hair
is formed from starlight and mist.
Her body shines in darkness, her

silence terrible between the shores
of sleep and fitful waking back
into the realm of his bones and blood.


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