By Richard Kenney b. 1948 Richard Kenney
Touch swollen tonsils:
gill slits.
Inside eyelid: slimelight.
Cheek: shark.
Here foreknown
I’ve dived
down dawnless
microbial snows,
phosphor blue to blue-
black, to black.
I fend
fish. I find
the saffron curb
of   the sulfur vent,
veering voiceless
again into the segmented,
swaying, white,
toothed tube-
worm, Time.

NOTES: Read the Q&A with Richard Kenney about this poem

Source: Poetry (December 2012).


This poem originally appeared in the December 2012 issue of Poetry magazine

December 2012
 Richard  Kenney


Poet Richard Kenney was born in 1948 in Glens Falls, New York and earned a BA from Dartmouth College. His first collection of poetry, The Evolution of the Flightless Bird (1984), received the Yale Younger Poets Prize. The book’s formal ambitiousness and technical facility, including an extended sonnet sequence, presaged Kenney’s future work, which has won accolades for its deft use of traditional forms and themes as well as its . . .

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Poems by Richard Kenney

Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Living, Time & Brevity, Nature, Animals, Seas, Rivers, & Streams

POET’S REGION U.S., Northwestern

Poetic Terms Free Verse

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Originally appeared in Poetry magazine.

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