Anthony Kerrigan

That the world should end in an orgy of pain was inconceivable at my conception in the Panama Canal Zone where the hydraulic locks were emblems of the unity of oceans. But the hydraulic harmony was striated with tropical diseases and now cancer where was torrid procreation; day . . . . Continue Reading »

I will become dust and you will become dust and ashes our tongues and ashes our eyes but, ever beloved and empassioned dust, our embers will last as long as the skies. —Anthony . . . . Continue Reading »

I Merely the look of it, buttercup at the edge of the “Lawn Falls” where the water seeps, sweeps down to the seaside is enough to carry the viewer in awe over the edge of reason to a logic beyond the modest mundane: the rocks being pitted are jointed by torrents of balm-like uproar. Love’s . . . . Continue Reading »

. . . pongee-colored girls in white dresses the sun shone through in multiple haloes where they lay alongside streets like sofas reading José Martí behind potted ferns in avenue-knolls paved with Key West grass and long-leaved tobacco shaved and scented like bark strips. . . . . Continue Reading »

The St. Jo River whirling full around the South Bend rich and dark as a negresse en chemise bedaubed with cochineal: mauve, purple tinting the water from the Odilon Redon sun setting. As we drove, the sunset fell over “The Goats” in Peru, Indiana and a crescent moon came up the color of . . . . Continue Reading »