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Winter Sex: Poems

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A conversation some months ago went like this:

"You like Richard Lederer's books, don't you?"

"Yes," I replied, "We've talked about his books before, a few times, as I recall. You already know that he's one of my favorite authors."

My friend smiled, then said, "I thought that was the one. Well, did you know that his daughter wrote a book a few years back?"

"Yes, but I've never read it. She's a world class poker player, and wrote a book about..."

He interrupted me, raising his hand as if to stop me, then said, "No, that's the other daughter. I'm talking about Katy Lederer, the one who's the poet, not the poker player."

With that he pulled a slim book with a fascinating cover from his briefcase and handed it to me, grinning. "Found this the other day, and thought the name sounded familiar. Read it and tell me what you think."

And that was my introduction to Winter Sex, a collection of poems by Katy Lederer.

I wonder how I had missed this one. I had previously thumbed through her book Poker Face: A Girlhood Among Gamblers while in a bookstore a few years ago, and found that it seemed to be a biography of sorts about a brilliant but dysfunctional family. I made a note to consider getting and reading it later, and noticed that she had written a poetry book, but had forgotten about it until my friend handed me the slim poetry volume.

There's a wide range of emotions expressed in this often-erotic volume that lives up to its title, a collection that explores romance, sex, gender, and life itself with an interesting sensitivity. There's a peek at irony and an occasional sense of humor that shows through, but there's no question that these are the thoughts and expressions of a brilliantly creative mind. This one is a good example:


"Morning Song"

You color all. Is this longing?

Or private. Is it private to speak

in the morning, the birdsong
like knives? We sit on this bench

while this wind swirls and billows.
This setting is love, yet we sit on

this bench, yet we listen to birdsong.
This color, your brain, which is bluer

than water. I touch it, your brain,
which is cooler than water. I wonder,

your brain, when it falters will it be
so cold? We buffet one another

with our bodies, with our slackened
hearts. I put myself in it, your body,

which aches. I put myself in it, your
brain, which is cooler than water.


"The Emotion and Pleasure of Love" is a joy to read, over and again. One of my favorites is "The Epithet Epic" - a poem that has a splendid sensuality and feeling of mutual passion expressed quite enjoyably.

Katy Lederer is also the daughter of author and teacher Richard Lederer, the 'verbivore' who has written more than thirty books, starting with Anguished English. Her siblings are Howard Lederer and Annie Duke, both world-renowned poker players, and card players may be familiar with Annie Duke: How I Raised, Folded, Bluffed, Flirted, Cursed, and Won Millions at the World Series of Poker.

Currently a poetry editor of Fence Magazine, Katy Lederer edited her own magazine, Explosive, from 1996 to 2006. Her honors and awards include fellowships from The Iowa Writers' Workshop, Yaddo, the MacDowell Colony, and the New York Foundation for the Arts. She currently lives in the New York borough of Brooklyn, and worked for years for a hedge fund in midtown Manhattan. Her newest poetry collection, The Heaven-Sent Leaf, has a focus on money and commerce, with poems that are populated with superbly chosen allusions to finance and literature.

Katy Lederer's Winter Sex is not a book to keep for yourself. It's a beautiful collection that is best shared with another, a wonderful warm reading for cold winter nights.

This extraordinary book is a constant revelation, filled with poems of poise and deep emotion.

The sensuous long lines in Winter Sex are matched with perfect line breaks, there's a sense of mystery, an occasional hint of threat, all combined in this terrific collection. Every poem is packed with sonic pleasure, but the language isn't a language of baroque excess, but of neo-classical, understated simplicity. Lederer's skills lie in reigning in extemes and leaving the imagination to do the work.

This is a book of strange encounters and narrative explorations of gender, of expectation, roles, and disjointed philosophy, it leaves one rattling around the mind's semi populated white rooms in the company of Lederer's quizzical interrogator, feeling your way to some kind of restitution with the world of things, and in that beautiful calm haze we come to see a strange barren beauty. Buy it now.