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Diner – Fall/Winter 2005

Volume 5 Number 2

Fall/Winter 2005

Biannual

Andrew Madigan

Diner, “a journal of poetry,” is impeccable in every sense; this is the single greatest issue of a literary review that I’ve ever read. Even the peripherals are outstanding: the cover design, the typeface choices, the layout; it looks as good as it reads. As for the poetry itself, Diner offers a surprisingly mixed bag of styles—editorial predilections don’t seem to divert quality work that exists outside certain rigid parameters, as so often happens.

Diner, “a journal of poetry,” is impeccable in every sense; this is the single greatest issue of a literary review that I’ve ever read. Even the peripherals are outstanding: the cover design, the typeface choices, the layout; it looks as good as it reads. As for the poetry itself, Diner offers a surprisingly mixed bag of styles—editorial predilections don’t seem to divert quality work that exists outside certain rigid parameters, as so often happens. However, the editors do lean toward a balanced writing, one that resides in the middle landscape between epicene lyricism and lowdown vernacular narrative. At least once every few pages, there’s a line, a stanza, or an entire work that jumps out and grabs you by the throat. In “Real Estate,” Karen Wolf transfers an epithet with both power and finesse: “The bed kicks me out / with a charley horse.” Jana Mackin’s “Infinity Bus Stop” wields the same kind of force: “which should allow enough time / to take a swig of Thunderbird // before he has to ward off the sucker punches / threatened by mortality sauntering up to ask directions.” The most arresting work is by E. Michael Desilets. He throttles the reader with nearly every word. “She’d eased herself into madness / as if it were a hot bath,” begins “Reminded.” Desilets’s work is the “strong poetry” of Harold Bloom, neither strutting nor cowering, but original and self-assured. Aside from poetry, there are a few reviews, an interview, and art. This last item deserves special notice. Consisting of photographs and one drawing, the work is extraordinarily vivid and clear, which is rare among literary magazines, where visual art is almost always an awkward appendage and paintings, in particular, don’t fare well. [Diner, P.O. Box 60676, Greendale Station, Worchester MA 01606. Single issue $9.95. www.spokenword.to/Diner] —Andrew Madigan

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