1. This white. That yellow. This blue. No matter what color pill I crush into the applesauce, this blue bowl, to feed you and myself, one full night of sleep, one night without this wandering. That weeping. Without the long rattle of doors. Without the all-night cricket clatter, and your struggle to shed that yellow […]
I’ve learned, has nothing in common with the relentless metronome of carpenter bees ticking off the aluminum siding like the steady hail of olive pits spit through my open window the summer I learned to shake martinis without bruising the gin. Nor does it exist in the imperfect practice of swatting a strung racket through […]
The three tomatoes I picked for the windowsill against an early frost, hunch and sag in their own skins. The sweet clot of seed and flesh rots from within, and a mobile of delicate insects begins. Fruit flies seem to appear from nothing. I watch one, frenzied in the vapor of decay, measure and remeasure […]
Sean Nevin talks about the first poem he ever wrote and how he came to poetry.
Sean Nevin talks about his poem “Sundowning.”
Sean Nevin talks about his poem “Oblivio Gate.”
Sean Nevin is the author of Oblivio Gate, selected for the Crab Orchard Award Series First Book Prize (Southern Illinois University Press) and A House That Falls (Slapering Hol Press). His honors include a Literature Fellowship in Poetry from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Robinson Jeffers Tor House Prize for Poetry selected by […]