Tag Archives: Kelli Allen

A Yarbrough in February is another bucket of ratoons gone to waste. My China-mother, full north, collects morning glories, thinks of horses mud-smeared, and remembers adding ginger too late for the Shenyang midwives she feeds before the winter sun swallows … Continue reading →

Kelli Allen’s work has appeared in numerous journals/anthologies in the US and internationally. Allen is the founding editor of Book of Matches. Allen’s new collection, Banjo’s Inside Coyote, arrived from C&R Press March 2019.

We know someone large is behind us when we reach our first chubby hand up toward the sweet thing we desire to bring into the mouth, to feel Eskimo round and unthreatened, if just for that instant past chewing. Size … Continue reading →

There are button-faced pigeons in the ulice again. Seven fires ride in on Mongol beards, blue sandstorms close behind. Five notes until everything burns. Children insist that St. Mary faces each direction, stones irritating stones, guards missing the sun going … Continue reading →

We don’t always mean welcome when we say or spell the word. The hog god walks near the woodcutter in an act against war— wars being the collective, lapping tongue set to milk bowls in the evening. The other otherness … Continue reading →

Hold this newt while I walk to the river, he said. In Iceland, when the uncle dies, his legs are skinned, trousers are made from hide, and we take turns placing coins over his shriveled penis. Blatantly alone amongst so … Continue reading →