Catholic Distance University


Gabriel Olearnik

Where are you?
My child my child my daughter
Ade with the cat’s eyes
Where are you?
You were walking amid the marrow-grass and asphodel
When the fronds came between you and the tribe
Now the sun sets
and the red roars begin [Read more...]

To Ithaca

Gabriel Olearnik

It is the Silver City. It cannot be visited.
Season of the Mists

It is the Silver City. But it is not made of silver
silver would have frozen to grey ash
silver would have burned to grey ash
silver is too febrile an element
to bear the fever of feral stars
and we would never have made harbor. [Read more...]

Mirror Sonnet: How to Rise From the Dead

Annabelle Moseley

“Thus says the Lord God to these bones: See! I will bring spirit into you, that you may come to life. I will put sinews upon you, make flesh grow over you, cover you with skin, and put spirit in you so that you may come to life and know that I am the Lord. I prophesied as I had been told, and even as I was prophesying I heard a noise; it was a rattling as the bones came together, bone joining bone.” (EK 37: 5-7)

And like a funeral in New Orleans,
where jazz sounds are synonymous with death
or like the painted skulls among the scenes
of Mexico’s Day of the Dead—each breath
Ezekial took as he prophesied
resounded over those dry bones and shook
them with God’s heady music. Homicide [Read more...]

The Same

Leah Acosta
It is the same.
The twisted strands . . . 
	of barbed wire, flesh now torn
	of plaited curls, freshly shorn
	of woven briars, crown of thorn.
The bruised reed . . . 
	freely blowing, sown in the distant sod
	trampled underfoot, by pris'ners heavy trod
	plucked, unbroken in the Son of God. [Read more...]

Holy Matrimony (Anniversary in Colonial Williamsburg)

Roger Mitchell

Watch the cooper resume
his old manufacture,
how the hollowing knife
will carve perfect volume
from imperfect nature.
So we two, man and wife,
embraced like oaken staves,
these golden rings our hoops,
this common life our cask,
have joined our tapered selves. [Read more...]


 I. The Cornucopia

Emerging cold and desperate, his whiting breath
Trails behind him like the old ship’s own signature
Disgorged in blunt belchings of smoke from its belly
Through a single squat stack piping up the trying pots.
The wit-starved whaler tells his hunger-angry crew:
Sing a tune from groggy memory; desires supply the words.
There’s the sea and he scans it like a line of poetry [Read more...]

Good Friday

Cristina A. Montes

The hottest time of year
is silent
save for chant
and chirping birds. [Read more...]

Absent Friends

Fiorella de Maria

For the staff and sisters of the St Joseph Hospital, Jerusalem
I never thought I would be too afraid
To contact an old friend. My hand reaches
For the telephone but I find myself drawing
Back in case the lines have been torn down
Or your number belongs to a stranger now,
Speaking a language I cannot share. And
For all I know, the letter I keep trying to write
Will be left on a doorstep without a house
Left standing behind it. Or it will lie in some
Depot somewhere with all the other post
Whose owners are not there now to lay
Claim to them. [Read more...]

This Is Only a Test

Roger Mitchell
If the TV stares back in blank silence
without even so much as a message
from our sponsors, do not take it askance.
Black static flies like a flag over this age.
Salute and report for duty, be distracted,
for to be distracted is the noblest aim
(so long as GDP is not impacted). [Read more...]


Michael Schorsch
my church is sending me
to Mexico

it was autumn of course
a deviled egg

and the three of us shared
some rye bread

the river was already frozen

Ina, I
have resolved to become a religious man