Issue 35, Final Fringe

Five poems

by Kevin McLellan Issue 25 01.03.2011

A warm autumn breeze. Purification, the act of—

and certain to bring heavy rains: a form of narrow

-ing, but okay it’s happening and happening to me

You said something else: you decide to not
burden your family with troubles and a gap
grows the distance between you and all else:

troubles pass and an afterward assumes you:
notwithstanding: you remember that before
you spoke there was a moment and it sang:

You worry about me worrying about you
on this cold day in December (this month
full of no’s) and as it begins to snow you
wait in your drafty home for me to phone.

These streets, these corridors,
this narrowing,  a fingerpoint

-ing snowstorm paralyzes my

street except for police mega-
phones  MOVE THAT CAR!

Even though I keep the thermostat on 60 degrees
I’m going to know that I’m at home in each room
& at the same time by various forms of dim light

-ing, various slants of.  And I’m not lesser today.

Kevin McLellan

Kevin McLellan

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Kevin McLellan is the author of the chapbook Round Trip (Seven Kitchens, 2010), a collaborative series with numerous women poets. He has recent or forthcoming poems in journals including Barrow Street, Colorado Review, Diagram,  Horse Less Review, Hunger Mountain, Interim, Poetry East, Southern Humanities Review, Sugar House Review, Versal, and several others. Even though he lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts, a rural sensibility lives in him. Currently, Kevin teaches creative writing at the University of Rhode Island in Providence.