INTERVIEWS


It only seems fitting to begin this introduction by thanking everyone who sent in their poems. I've always found reading for The Pedestal Magazine to be a both rewarding and humbling experience–rewarding because the amount of quality work I get to read is worth more than a dozen magazine subscriptions, and humbling because I have to turn down so many exceptional poems.

For this issue, I've strived to bring together an eclectic group of poets who, I feel, shine on their own "pedestal":

In her haunting sonnet, "Bad Mother," Ros Barber offers a sad insight on parenthood and that sense of inadequacy it often evokes in us. Ken Champion's "Cafe" spins a psychedelic web between the past and the present. Margaret Clark's "Other Miracles on the Day You Were Born" is a wonderfully life-affirming tribute and celebration of things we take for granted. In "Lessons from Miguel," Sarah J. Den Boer brings us to experience "how desire feels." Arun Gaur's "Inhaling Oxygen" delves into that eerie sensation of following in our father's footsteps. A classically beautiful poem, Gregory's "Her Slow and Downward Line" immortalizes an August morning. In "Minuet in the Court of the Daily," Sandra Kohler takes us into the spiritual state of an aging recluse. Mary Miller's prose poem, "Patterns," is a mundane and sassy glimpse of modern courtship. Jarrod Minto's "Flat, Flexible" plays an irresistible, charming and offbeat love poem about a woman "in white shoes that fit into the palm of his hand." On a more experimental vein, Andrew Mossin's "The Wall" presents a multifaceted exploration of death. Allan Peterson's minimalist style glows in "Ardor," with the scattering cats offering an unforgettable image. Allison Shoemaker's "Drowning in Arizona" paints an unforgiving portrait of grief. Lynn Strongin takes us running beside "The woman physician who jogs before each dawn"... and who should be there too, if not Mozart, to leave us breathless. James Tipton weaves his magic and introspection in the narrative "Mr. Beeson's Shop of Mirrors." Yun Wang's "Fear of Snakes" is darkly surreal, its voice asking to be broken "so that I may come back/ in a thousand different ways."

Again, thank you to everyone who submitted their work. I hope readers find the poems in this issue as enjoyable and inspiring as I have.

Arlene Ang
August 21, 2007
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