Meanwhile, Flies

Quinn Lewis

You must go out to the paddockwhere it’s never warm.The ox must be slaughteredfor his shoulder blade.The ox you loved, even. The onewho watched you turn away,going back into the house.Attend the bodyin the field for days,letting beetles devour the meat,washing the oracle boneswith wine. Meanwhile,flies will give birthin the ox’s eye, be drawnto the barn cat as she dies, zeroingaround her. Soon you’ll askthe necessary question.What is a season?A thing of beauty to be lovedin this life.

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Quinn Lewis’s poetry has appeared in Indiana Review, Ninth Letter, and Best New Poets. She was a 2018 Claudia Emerson Scholar at the Sewanee Writers’ Conference, and has received residencies from Hawthornden Castle and Willapa Bay AiR. She takes care of a horse in rural Pennsylvania.

The Southern Review

Winter 2019

Baton Rouge, Louisiana

Louisiana State University

Coeditor and Poetry Editor: Jessica Faust
Coeditor and Prose Editor: Emily Nemens

The Southern Review is one of the nation’s premiere literary journals. Hailed by Time as “superior to any other journal in the English language,” we have made literary history since our founding in 1935. We publish a diverse array of fiction, nonfiction, and poetry by the country’s—and the world’s—most respected contemporary writers.

The Southern Review … represents everything that is good in the world of literary publication. Their dedication to aesthetic quality has been the gold standard in literary publication for over seventy-five years.”
—James Lee Burke

“A leading literary quarterly.”
New York Times

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