Summer 2011 • Vol. XXXIII No. 3 NonfictionJuly 1, 2011 |

Dew Point

Acres of morning-drenched hydrangea; a snow leopard spooning the snowy lamb beneath a willow's blotchy shade; adder-mouth orchids the bullfinch hoards never peck—no matter what precisely they're leaving behind, what they step into is no dew-damp world. The visible earth is nothing but jaundiced boulders, two prescorched barren heaps. And the sky is no longer a sky, but only an undercoat where a sky once was. Because of the way the azurite has decayed, the couple seems to be leaving paradise in divided spheres. Eve is encased in a bubble of pale blue-gray, whereas a darker blue clings to the contours of Adam's body, reaching from his ribs to his penis and thigh, extending down the length of his back in the shape of a scythe, a hook. He buries his face in his hands, unable to see anything. She lifts her head, eyes clenched, clutches herself, and wails. Even a few paces into this world of loss—a place she will never now not be—her skin is fissured and pockmarked, freckled w

Already have an account? Login

Join KR for even more to read.

Register for a free account to read five free pieces a month from our current issue and digital archive.
Register for Free and Read This Piece



Or become a subscriber today and get complete, immediate access to our digital archives at every subscription level.
Kenyon Review logo
Matt Donovan is the author of the collection of essays, A Cloud of Unusual Size and Shape: Meditations on Ruin and Redemption (Trinity University Press 2016) as well as two collections of poetry – Vellum (Mariner, 2007) and Rapture & the Big Bam (Tupelo Press, 2017). He is the recipient of a Rome Prize in Literature, a Whiting Award, a Pushcart Prize, a Creative Capital Grant, an NEA Fellowship, and the Larry Levis Reading Prize. He’s currently writing a book about American gun culture, and collaborating on the chamber opera Inheritance about the life of Sarah Winchester.

Read More

Garden of the Fugitives

By Matt Donovan

Acres of morning-drenched hydrangea; a snow leopard spooning the snowy lamb beneath a willow's blotchy shade; adder-mouth orchids the bullfinch hoards never peck—no matter what precisely they're leaving behind, what […]

Subscribe

Your free registration with Kenyon review incudes access to exclusive content, early access to program registration, and more.

Donate

With your support, we’ll continue 
to cultivate talent and publish extraordinary literature from diverse voices around the world.