By Beth Ann Fennelly
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Additional info for A Different Kind of Hunger (Texas Review Poetry Chapbook Series)
Peter? That is strange, In "Lycidas," St. Pewell, never mind. You've come for Papa, he's laid out within. If you chance to pass this way again, we plan to keep a lively parlor now. Perhaps some whist? You could be our fourth, if you desire. Now that you know the path, please do return to join our company. < previous page page_28 next page > < previous page page_29 next page > Page 29 The Passing (After "Woman Reading" by Frank W. Benson) I. The Painter The painter reads the shoulder-shadow dimming the nameless book the model holds as she poses, turned from the window.
Wood Award for Distinguished Writing from The Carolina Quarterly, and she has published her poetry widely in journals in this country and abroad.
If I live to be sixty-six like him I never will see a stranger sight: Papa swinging into sunshine, wings of gauze aflap his shoulders, bedsheets billowing. Descending from the sun, he blinded me. I wept, which I did not expect to do. That's the story best as I can tell it. I'd like to sleep in but still wake at four my tongue outstretched where Babel has been razed. We've sold his library to pay his debts and buy Deborah that harpsichord inside. < previous page page_27 next page > < previous page page_28 next page > Page 28 Well, sir, you may enter at your leisure.
A Different Kind of Hunger (Texas Review Poetry Chapbook Series) by Beth Ann Fennelly