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      February 11, 2019David BermanThe Cat’s Fancy

      He knows—he knows—the sink is where I rinse
      off dishes bound for the machine
      that once it’s filled will clean
      them; years and years now daily he has seen
      the process. Yet I can’t convince
      him by unsubtle hints
      to take postprandial rests away from there.
      And it has taken years for me
      to figure out why he
      chooses this spot. What he would have me see
      is that china and silverware
      can wait: better to share
      myself with him, touch noses, smooth his fur
      and thus make both our mornings happier.

      from #62 - Winter 2018

      David Berman was a wonderful member of the Powow River Poets with several awards to his credit, a fine translator and scholar, a distinguished lawyer, and a beloved friend whom we’ve lost to cancer. He studied with Robert Lowell and Archibald Mac Leish, worked with language the way a jeweler works with stone, and served as a kind of yardstick to the rest of us during the many years he graced our monthly workshop. Although he had published excellent work in three chapbooks and many journals, he left the bulk of his work unpublished, as his profession left him short of time. Several of us—A.M. Juster, Bruce Bennett, Rhina P. Espaillat—have acceded to his widow’s desire to submit some of David’s poems to the magazines we most enjoy reading and to which we submit our own work. These two happen to be about David’s relationship with his cat, but they transcend by miles the typical “cat poem” genre.