Kathleen Hellen is the author of the collection Umberto's Night, winner of the Jean Feldman Poetry Prize, and two chapbooks, The Girl Who Loved Mothra and Pentimento.
Her poems have appeared in American Letters and Commentary, Barrow Street, Cimarron Review, The Massachusetts Review, North American Review, Poetry Daily, Poetry East, Poetry International, Prairie Schooner, the Sewanee Review, Southern Poetry Review, Tar River Poetry, and elsewhere. With poems nominated for the Pushcart and Best of the Net prizes, Hellen is a past recipient of the Thomas Merton poetry prize, the H.O.W. Journal poetry prize, and the Washington Square Review Poetry Prize.
Along a tarp of late forsythia as thin
a tinctured spring. The yellow dust
the radio calls "spunk"
disturbs me. A hundred tongues
that swarm in scarlet-bud
until the golden horses of
his nakedness have run.
Petals pleat after the freezing.
as it should. My slit
a blunted slice
of done concubinage.
I am tired of these games of sudden spring.
I am sick of bloom & wing &