-
February 22, 2017
Six Sundays toward a Seventh (21 February-3 April, 1988)
From the Kenyon Review, New Series, Autumn, 1989, Vol. XI, No. 4 If during meditation our thoughts move to persons who are near to us or to those we are […]
-
February 8, 2017
Hope
from the Kenyon Review, New Series, Spring 1991, Vol. XIII, No. 2 . . . is the thing with feathers— Dickinson Too much torque on a wing, and the branches […]
-
February 2, 2017
From Stab Wounds
From the Kenyon Review, New Series, Autumn 1992, Vol. XIV, No. 4 The Things He Turns To Gold My little brother slams into our bedroom in the middle of The […]
-
January 5, 2017
The Dream-singing Elegy
From the Kenyon Review, Winter 1944, Vol. VI, No. 1 Darkness giving us dream’s black unity. Images in procession start to flow among the river-currents down the years of judgment […]
-
-
Poetry
-
Samuel Amadon
Final Tea with Hoon -
L. S. Klatt
Garden Noises; The Lord I Did Not Want -
Amit Majmudar
Resurrection: His Hands -
Philip Schaefer
The Unaccounted
-
Samuel Amadon
-
Fiction
-
Cara Blue Adams
Said Yes -
Lanre Akinsiku
Boomerang -
Ron Carlson
His Hair Was on Fire -
Christine Ma-Kellams
Small Words in a Large World -
Angela Woodward
Flinching
-
Cara Blue Adams
-
Nonfiction
-
Czesław Miłosz
From the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference -
John Rodden
Profess or Perish? -
Roger Rosenblatt
Dead Bird
-
Czesław Miłosz
-
Drama
-
Rachel Joseph
Buried
-
Rachel Joseph
-
-
-
Poetry
-
Emily Geminder
Interior with Ghost -
Anna Meister
For Once -
Corey Miller
Etude for Your Downs and Ups
-
Emily Geminder
-
Fiction
-
Tricia Bauer
Outage -
Matt Denis
Getting Free -
Marcelle Heath
Nine Times Gretchen King Is Mistaken on July 12, 1980 -
Zea Thynne
Where Tears Run
-
Tricia Bauer
-
Nonfiction
-
Marcia Aldrich
The Rejection -
Mary Margaret Alvarado
There is Nothing Left to Carry Over -
Jonathan Farmer
“All We Can Say”: On Politics
-
Marcia Aldrich
-
Interview
-
-
October 26, 2016
Letter to His Brother
From the Kenyon Review, Summer 1939, Vol. I, No. 3 The night is on these hills, and some can sleep. Some stare into the dark, some walk. Only the sound […]
-
October 18, 2016
Halloween
From the Kenyon Review, Autumn 1950, Vol. XII, No. 4 Tonight our streets are filled With beardless pirates and their high-heeled wives Who own no maps of treasure and have […]
-
October 13, 2016
From Through the Ivory Gate
From the Kenyon Review, New Series, Spring 1992, Vol. XIV, No. 2 Virginia turned her car out of the Saferstein Tower parking lot and headed down Copley Hill. She decided […]
-
September 28, 2016
Message in a Bottle
From the Kenyon Review, Spring 1962, Vol. XXIV, No. 2 There are days when the world pauses, gets stuck, senselessly, like one of those machines that ought to give cigarettes […]
-
-
Poetry
-
Jordie Albiston
scandium; lithium; cadmium; zirconium -
R. M. Haines
Medusae (II) -
Laura Kolbe
Dissecting Blade
-
Jordie Albiston
-
Fiction
-
L. Shapley Bassen
What Can the Matter Be? -
Lee Conell
Unit Cell -
Benjamin Kolp
Between Stars
-
L. Shapley Bassen
-
Drama
-
Karen Malpede
Extreme Whether: Act I
-
Karen Malpede
-
Review
-
Hilda Johnston
The Prodigious Energy of Life
-
Hilda Johnston
-
Nonfiction
-
Corrina Carter
The Thylacine: A Striped Haunting -
Jonathan Farmer
“All We Can Say”: On Politics -
E. A. Farro
Spartina -
Jennifer Bowen Hicks
An Inquiry into Epigenetics -
Shayla Love
Crystalline -
Karen Luper
Magnet -
Ravi Mangla
The Great Unknown -
Natalie Mesnard and Patrick Donald Watson
The Half-Sacred Disease -
Sarah Rose Nordgren
On the Fabric of the Body -
Boyd Norton
Excerpt from Tickling the Dragon’s Tail: How I Once Blew Up a Nuclear Reactor and Went on to Save the World’s Wild Places -
Joseph Osmundson
The Selfish Queen -
Dawne Shand
The Garden of Biodiversity’s Snake -
Jamie Zvirzdin
Observations of a Science Editor: If Romantic Scientists Pilfered Fiction’s Toolbox, You Can Too
-
Corrina Carter
-
-
September 1, 2016
Map of the New World
From the Kenyon Review, New Series, Winter 1981, Vol. III, No. 1 I. Dragons once, with webbed hands, serrated fins, circled this unknown sea. Their scales flake now like scurf, […]
