Four Poems from Frayer
ouananiche revive the watercolorsof our blooming organstime to swallow the evidenceof these mutant hides••I seize the ice by its haunchesthe lake, tangled in its own light,cracks its knuckles in every crevasse••the little heart closes like a dandelion in darknessseagulls tread water in the windof your badlands of your brushfires of your handsaround my neck••behold the prize at the bottom of twenty-four:no longer being able to count up to purplefear of the possible and all the thingsI'll never doif I can't findthe other north
Ouananiche are landlocked salmon found in Labrador and Newfoundland.
Copyright © 2019 by Kristen Renee Miller
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission.
Marie-André Gill was born on the first day of spring, the same day that Chernobyl went boom. She’s the kind of girl who who can’t get enough of books books and isn’t quick on the Ski-Doo. She digs poetry, truly, madly, deeply. And she would like to get around to writing a novel some day or other. In the meantime, she’s studying literature at university for the fun of not knowing where it might lead.
Gill was born in the Ilnu community in Mashteuiatsh, and her writing blends kitsch and existentialism, combining Quebecois and Ilnu identities. She has published two collections with La Peuplade.
Kristen Renee Miller is the managing editor at Sarabande. Her poetry and translations have appeared in POETRY, The Kenyon Review, Guernica, The Offing, and Best New Poets 2018. She is the translator of Spawn, a poetry collection by Innu Nation poet Marie-Andrée Gill, forthcoming in 2020. She lives in Louisville, Kentucky.
Building on a tradition of excellence dating back to 1939, the Kenyon Review has evolved from a distinguished literary magazine to a pre-eminent arts organization. Today, KR is devoted to nurturing, publishing, and celebrating the best in contemporary writing. We’re expanding the community of diverse readers and writers, across the globe, at every stage of their lives.