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Judith Berke

Summer 1988

Scheherazade

By Judith Berke

In the little cave the bones glow as if the skin were still attached to them, yet each wife, each skeleton is arranged in some ordinary posture: its arms up, […]

Summer 1988

Family Tree

By Judith Berke

When it comes to my branch the tree just stops so that it becomes for now, at least, like the verb to be: all intention. There I sit in the […]

Fall 1986

Oedipus

By Judith Berke

Once he had unriddled the Sphinxshe was finished, I guess,though not bodily, not the powerfulthighs, the lion-thighsof the women … So then it was the fathers.Some cities got built. Some […]

Fall 1990

Cries and Whispers

By Judith Berke

          for Peggotty and for Lois It’s the maid who cradles the dying sister’s head: there, it’s the Madonna and child, it’s the baby Jesus coughing her life out. Three sisters […]