Kenyon Review logo

Franz Wright

Winter 2011

The Lesson

By Franz Wright

Say you finally make it home after a particularly arduous day in eighth grade to find the front door standing open and the furniture gone, and wander awhile through the […]

Winter 2011

The Window

By Franz Wright

I know, it's all terribly mystical. So what. So is work; and work means something. It means that what you do, you do for someone else. You do it for […]

Winter 2011

The Yes

By Franz Wright

Each day, for years, it gets up at first light, lets the dove out and stands in the doorway looking at the soft blue Arkansas sky without waking. But never […]

Winter 2011

The Child

By Franz Wright

The child will forgive, will reach out, and wait for the next blow to fall; short of becoming a murderer, what else is he supposed to do— move out and […]

Winter 2011

Song

By Franz Wright

Wysteria rain, where is your child-mother? This must be the last bee on earth. So, you find no more grandeur or mystery here—perhaps you neglected to bring any. Heckling sparrows, […]