Cori A. Winrock’s debut collection, This Coalition of Bones, was runner up for the Kore Press First Book Award and will be published by Kore Press in spring 2014. Her poems have appeared in (or are waiting in the wings of) Colorado Review, Blackbird, Black Warrior Review, Denver Quarterly, Shenandoah, and others. She is a recipient of a […]
We snag cabs and drift through the middle of the night. The city a cathedral we are ushered into, press our ears against— listen for the sea sliding inside its shell: the hushed shuffle of feet across a pearling asphalt […]
Every time I looked at this photo…I had the same thought, it looked like the [gallows], […]
What corseting—: the room cinched in as the wrecking drill bores down, its metal threaded vertebrae spiraling slow through our plaster and horsehair insulation, the seven-layer wallpapers caked over and over each other—a city falling asleep under another city and another. Our furniture slides toward a center— the drill in the parlor a bright needle, […]
“The clouds are a marriage dress, of that pallor.” Sent for everything capsuled in a blankness. A leeching of—. My hands cupping nothing and utterly unasked for. It is whiting-out here, a hospitaled sky. The prairie grass lapsed into the almost-opaque state of scotch tape (the flimse […]
First heart container in the ribcage. Shiver down; plunge the spine. I loop my lungs on string and swing them around: lung to lung. Second heart container in the hand. Shake against; snow the bone. I clasp my fingers on ice and bite its melt: marrow to lung. Third heart container in the artery. Splice […]
Who controls the past controls the future: who controls the present controls the past. […]
Cori A. Winrock talks about her writing time.