October 2, 2019

Three Poems

By torrin a. greathouse

Against Yellow

When I see the child’s sky, scrim of blue
crayon, the sun’s untidy scrawl, the last thing
I think of is heat & light. Instead, teeth
antiqued by cigarette smoke. Instead, the wash
of bile across the tongue. The honey scent
of ketosis piss, starved body’s brightest rebellion.

October 1, 2019

October Newsletter

A Legacy of Transformation: David Lynn and the Kenyon Review, Why We Chose It by Editor at Large, Maggie Smith, and much more!