From CutBank 74
Why the inland people call some kinds of water kill
This is the beauty of it. There is nothing in the drawing room to suggest my dreams unhinging tiny red doors to allow the house to breathe. Not moths scraping oars across the screen. Not barred owls demanding, who cooks for you. Alone, I find that cold spring’s copper spigot. I drink two palms of water. For what it’s worth, what people call kill is where I was looking for was, one hole to lower myself into.
AFTER HEATHER McHUGH
Sean Patrick Hill is a graduate of the Warren Wilson College MFA Program for Writers. The author of the chapbook Hibernaculum (Slash Pine Press, 2013), as well as Interstitial (BlazeVOX, 2011) and The Imagined Field (Paper Kite Press, 2010), he is the recipient of grants and fellowships from the Kentucky Arts Council, the Elizabeth George Foundation, and the Vermont Studio Center. He lives in Louisville, Kentucky.