I met them in town so they would not get lost.
I had them follow me in their car through the thick,
New Hampshire forest. I had beer in the fridge
waiting, I said. And it was true, but when we arrived,
it seemed my house had turned to beer. The door
a Hefeweizen, the windows light summer ales with
fruity undertones. A surprise for all of us. I had told them
we’d meditate on this Zen question: What sound do
beers clinking in a forest make when no one’s around?
I had told them that my fridge would be stocked full.
When I showed my friends in, I led them to the oven—
my double-porter oven with a man-sized door.
I suggested we walk inside because the beer was cold.
One asked, But isn’t it an oven? I answered,
There’s a time for everything. Cold. Hot. It’s summer!
She shook her head but followed, along with the other.
Inside the oven we sat down on kegs of beer,
picked frosty mugs off the floor and filled them up.
There were many mugs to be filled. I got both of them
to work together—one manning the tap, one on the mugs.
I left the room, shut the oven door, thinking,
Hansel and Gretel, it’s time for my meal!
The thing is, it was me who seemed to be trapped inside.
The thing is, it wasn’t an oven but a fridge.
The thing is, I felt the cold form around me like glass.
The thing is, I felt like my insides were all hops and barley.
I was chilled when the door opened, Gretel’s right hand
around my waist, her left popping off my cap—
her mouth open like an oven in some dream;
me, entering her like a cold beer on a hot summer day.

Timothy Kercher is in the process of moving to Kyiv, Ukraine from the Republic of Georgia, where he has been editing and translating an anthology of contemporary Georgian poetry. This will be the fifth country he has lived and worked in overseas--Bosnia, Mongolia, and Mexico being the others. He completed his MFA at Vermont College of Fine Arts in January 2010. His poems and translations have appeared or are forthcoming in the Atlanta Review, The Dirty Goat, Poetry International Journal, Nashville Review, The Evansville Review, Ellipsis: Art and Literature, Los Angeles Review, and others.