By Karen Kevorkian
The voice of a single unidentifiable bird cracking dark
an electric kettle flicked on as first step toward coffee
red plum from the fridge a small cold body in the mouth
in still-on torchlight paving stones gleam sepia
a car gone the old man his swaddled news on the grass
drenched hem of the long cotton robe heavy from wet
the paper lain on the porch a cat standing on the walk
3 a.m's endless itemizing hear and red numbers banging change
a dream city's mute de Chirico porticoes
naked prowling against a cold window's breath
where was the old cat its death would not surprise
From "Here in My Body it Feels Crowded," 2025
The Importance of Arts, Culture & The Creative Process
Standards of honesty are pretty high in the creative arts. You can't fake it. You have to pay attention. Such specific saying is all but out of fashion. But even the most inexperienced writer or other art maker who is compelled to record or respond stands up for what is best in humans, sustains civilization.
What was the inspiration for your creative work?
Facets of sensation, dreams, wet grass, cold windows.
Tell us something about the natural world that you love and don’t wish to lose. What are your thoughts on the kind of world we are leaving for the next generation?
I cherish columns, foundations, potsherds, burials, all evidence of Before that the earth continues to yield. I fear a paved world, which would be boring and do little for photosynthesis, and hence, breath.
