Terry L. Kennedy
@terrylkennedy.bsky.social
Author, What the Light Leaves Hidden (Unicorn Press 2023)
Editor, The Greensboro Review
linktr.ee/terrylkennedy
Editor, The Greensboro Review
linktr.ee/terrylkennedy
The Department of English at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro invites applications for an assistant professor position in creative writing (poetry), to begin August 1, 2026. For more information and to apply, visit buff.ly/YXi1Y4L, click on “Faculty,” and select position #1460
November 21, 2025 at 9:01 PM
The Department of English at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro invites applications for an assistant professor position in creative writing (poetry), to begin August 1, 2026. For more information and to apply, visit buff.ly/YXi1Y4L, click on “Faculty,” and select position #1460
When you consider the radiance, that it does not withhold
itself but pours its abundance without selection into every
nook and cranny not overhung or hidden . . .
from "The City Limits" by A.R. Ammons
buff.ly/desBVZY
itself but pours its abundance without selection into every
nook and cranny not overhung or hidden . . .
from "The City Limits" by A.R. Ammons
buff.ly/desBVZY
November 21, 2025 at 5:00 PM
When you consider the radiance, that it does not withhold
itself but pours its abundance without selection into every
nook and cranny not overhung or hidden . . .
from "The City Limits" by A.R. Ammons
buff.ly/desBVZY
itself but pours its abundance without selection into every
nook and cranny not overhung or hidden . . .
from "The City Limits" by A.R. Ammons
buff.ly/desBVZY
LAST DAY to register for the 40th anniversary NC Writers’ Network Fall Conference! Don't miss the chance to secure your spot in this celebration of the Network’s 40th anniversary: a weekend full of classes, discussions, readings, and literary community. buff.ly/ZmwSBeh
November 2, 2025 at 5:00 PM
LAST DAY to register for the 40th anniversary NC Writers’ Network Fall Conference! Don't miss the chance to secure your spot in this celebration of the Network’s 40th anniversary: a weekend full of classes, discussions, readings, and literary community. buff.ly/ZmwSBeh
2 Days left to register for the 40th anniversary NC Writers’ Network Fall Conference! That gives you the rest of the weekend to secure your spot in this celebration of the Network’s 40th anniversary: a weekend full of classes, discussions, readings, and literary community. buff.ly/ZmwSBeh
November 1, 2025 at 2:01 PM
2 Days left to register for the 40th anniversary NC Writers’ Network Fall Conference! That gives you the rest of the weekend to secure your spot in this celebration of the Network’s 40th anniversary: a weekend full of classes, discussions, readings, and literary community. buff.ly/ZmwSBeh
3 Days left to register for the 40th anniversary NC Writers’ Network Fall Conference! That gives you the weekend to secure your spot in this celebration of the Network’s 40th anniversary: a weekend full of classes, discussions, readings, and literary community. buff.ly/ZmwSBeh
October 31, 2025 at 6:01 PM
3 Days left to register for the 40th anniversary NC Writers’ Network Fall Conference! That gives you the weekend to secure your spot in this celebration of the Network’s 40th anniversary: a weekend full of classes, discussions, readings, and literary community. buff.ly/ZmwSBeh
is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne
or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona
partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian . . .
from "Having a Coke with You" by Frank O'Hara
buff.ly/Exm1MTH
or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona
partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian . . .
from "Having a Coke with You" by Frank O'Hara
buff.ly/Exm1MTH
October 20, 2025 at 1:07 PM
is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne
or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona
partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian . . .
from "Having a Coke with You" by Frank O'Hara
buff.ly/Exm1MTH
or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona
partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian . . .
from "Having a Coke with You" by Frank O'Hara
buff.ly/Exm1MTH
The quake last night was nothing personal,
you told me this morning. I think one always wonders,
unless, of course, something is visible: tremors
that take us, private and willy-nilly, are usual . . .
from "Earth Tremors Felt in Missouri" by Mona Van Duyn
buff.ly/n9MhKOV
you told me this morning. I think one always wonders,
unless, of course, something is visible: tremors
that take us, private and willy-nilly, are usual . . .
from "Earth Tremors Felt in Missouri" by Mona Van Duyn
buff.ly/n9MhKOV
October 19, 2025 at 1:02 PM
The quake last night was nothing personal,
you told me this morning. I think one always wonders,
unless, of course, something is visible: tremors
that take us, private and willy-nilly, are usual . . .
from "Earth Tremors Felt in Missouri" by Mona Van Duyn
buff.ly/n9MhKOV
you told me this morning. I think one always wonders,
unless, of course, something is visible: tremors
that take us, private and willy-nilly, are usual . . .
from "Earth Tremors Felt in Missouri" by Mona Van Duyn
buff.ly/n9MhKOV
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster . . .
from "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop
buff.ly/54dN6Yx
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster . . .
from "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop
buff.ly/54dN6Yx
October 18, 2025 at 1:03 PM
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster . . .
from "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop
buff.ly/54dN6Yx
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster . . .
from "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop
buff.ly/54dN6Yx
Huffy Henry hid the day,
unappeasable Henry sulked.
I see his point,—a trying to put things over.
It was the thought that they thought
they could do it made Henry wicked & away.
But he should have come out and talked.
from "Dream Song 1" by John Berryman
buff.ly/4rLIAsD
unappeasable Henry sulked.
I see his point,—a trying to put things over.
It was the thought that they thought
they could do it made Henry wicked & away.
But he should have come out and talked.
from "Dream Song 1" by John Berryman
buff.ly/4rLIAsD
October 17, 2025 at 1:04 PM
Huffy Henry hid the day,
unappeasable Henry sulked.
I see his point,—a trying to put things over.
It was the thought that they thought
they could do it made Henry wicked & away.
But he should have come out and talked.
from "Dream Song 1" by John Berryman
buff.ly/4rLIAsD
unappeasable Henry sulked.
I see his point,—a trying to put things over.
It was the thought that they thought
they could do it made Henry wicked & away.
But he should have come out and talked.
from "Dream Song 1" by John Berryman
buff.ly/4rLIAsD
You have to let things
Occupy their own space.
This room is small,
But the green settee
Likes to be here.
The big marsh reeds,
Crowding out the slough,
Find the world good.
You have to let things
Be as they are . . .
from "What Things Want" by Robert Bly
buff.ly/Z1PGEwd
Occupy their own space.
This room is small,
But the green settee
Likes to be here.
The big marsh reeds,
Crowding out the slough,
Find the world good.
You have to let things
Be as they are . . .
from "What Things Want" by Robert Bly
buff.ly/Z1PGEwd
October 16, 2025 at 1:03 PM
You have to let things
Occupy their own space.
This room is small,
But the green settee
Likes to be here.
The big marsh reeds,
Crowding out the slough,
Find the world good.
You have to let things
Be as they are . . .
from "What Things Want" by Robert Bly
buff.ly/Z1PGEwd
Occupy their own space.
This room is small,
But the green settee
Likes to be here.
The big marsh reeds,
Crowding out the slough,
Find the world good.
You have to let things
Be as they are . . .
from "What Things Want" by Robert Bly
buff.ly/Z1PGEwd
Right under their noses, the green
Of the field is paling away
Because of something fallen from the sky.
They see this, and put down
Their long heads deeper in grass
That only just escapes reflecting them . . .
from "The Dusk of Horses" by James Dickey
buff.ly/PdqxCJp
Of the field is paling away
Because of something fallen from the sky.
They see this, and put down
Their long heads deeper in grass
That only just escapes reflecting them . . .
from "The Dusk of Horses" by James Dickey
buff.ly/PdqxCJp
October 15, 2025 at 1:02 PM
Right under their noses, the green
Of the field is paling away
Because of something fallen from the sky.
They see this, and put down
Their long heads deeper in grass
That only just escapes reflecting them . . .
from "The Dusk of Horses" by James Dickey
buff.ly/PdqxCJp
Of the field is paling away
Because of something fallen from the sky.
They see this, and put down
Their long heads deeper in grass
That only just escapes reflecting them . . .
from "The Dusk of Horses" by James Dickey
buff.ly/PdqxCJp
Against the stone breakwater,
Only an ominous lapping,
While the wind whines overhead,
Coming down from the mountain,
Whistling between the arbors, the winding terraces . . .
from "The Storm" by Theodore Roethke
buff.ly/jLCcAnP
Only an ominous lapping,
While the wind whines overhead,
Coming down from the mountain,
Whistling between the arbors, the winding terraces . . .
from "The Storm" by Theodore Roethke
buff.ly/jLCcAnP
October 14, 2025 at 1:00 PM
Against the stone breakwater,
Only an ominous lapping,
While the wind whines overhead,
Coming down from the mountain,
Whistling between the arbors, the winding terraces . . .
from "The Storm" by Theodore Roethke
buff.ly/jLCcAnP
Only an ominous lapping,
While the wind whines overhead,
Coming down from the mountain,
Whistling between the arbors, the winding terraces . . .
from "The Storm" by Theodore Roethke
buff.ly/jLCcAnP
There was such speed in her little body,
And such lightness in her footfall,
It is no wonder her brown study
Astonishes us all.
Her wars were bruited in our high window . . .
from "Bells for John Whiteside's Daughter" by John Crowe Ransom
buff.ly/RQlAwEE
And such lightness in her footfall,
It is no wonder her brown study
Astonishes us all.
Her wars were bruited in our high window . . .
from "Bells for John Whiteside's Daughter" by John Crowe Ransom
buff.ly/RQlAwEE
October 13, 2025 at 1:03 PM
There was such speed in her little body,
And such lightness in her footfall,
It is no wonder her brown study
Astonishes us all.
Her wars were bruited in our high window . . .
from "Bells for John Whiteside's Daughter" by John Crowe Ransom
buff.ly/RQlAwEE
And such lightness in her footfall,
It is no wonder her brown study
Astonishes us all.
Her wars were bruited in our high window . . .
from "Bells for John Whiteside's Daughter" by John Crowe Ransom
buff.ly/RQlAwEE
We were alone one night on a long
road in Montana. This was in winter, a big
night, far to the stars. We had hitched,
my wife and I, and left our ride at
a crossing to go on. Tired and cold—but
brave—we trudged along . . .
from "Once in the 40's" by William Stafford
buff.ly/LFC0HYB
road in Montana. This was in winter, a big
night, far to the stars. We had hitched,
my wife and I, and left our ride at
a crossing to go on. Tired and cold—but
brave—we trudged along . . .
from "Once in the 40's" by William Stafford
buff.ly/LFC0HYB
October 12, 2025 at 1:02 PM
We were alone one night on a long
road in Montana. This was in winter, a big
night, far to the stars. We had hitched,
my wife and I, and left our ride at
a crossing to go on. Tired and cold—but
brave—we trudged along . . .
from "Once in the 40's" by William Stafford
buff.ly/LFC0HYB
road in Montana. This was in winter, a big
night, far to the stars. We had hitched,
my wife and I, and left our ride at
a crossing to go on. Tired and cold—but
brave—we trudged along . . .
from "Once in the 40's" by William Stafford
buff.ly/LFC0HYB
Live in the Triad? UNCG Creative Writing alum Evan Fackler will be reading his award-winning story "IDP’s.” TODAY, Saturday, October 11th, at 2PM at Scuppernong Books, 304. S. Elm Street. buff.ly/9NVurHX
To read more about the Doris Betts Fiction Prize: buff.ly/Gugtaxf
To read more about the Doris Betts Fiction Prize: buff.ly/Gugtaxf
October 11, 2025 at 3:03 PM
Live in the Triad? UNCG Creative Writing alum Evan Fackler will be reading his award-winning story "IDP’s.” TODAY, Saturday, October 11th, at 2PM at Scuppernong Books, 304. S. Elm Street. buff.ly/9NVurHX
To read more about the Doris Betts Fiction Prize: buff.ly/Gugtaxf
To read more about the Doris Betts Fiction Prize: buff.ly/Gugtaxf
Who knows whether the sea heals or corrodes?
The wading, wintered pack-beasts of the feet
slough off, in spring, the dead rind of the shoes'
leather detention, the big toe's yellow horn
shines with a natural polish . . .
from "Plague of Dead Sharks" by Alan Dugan
buff.ly/qDbN8Yp
The wading, wintered pack-beasts of the feet
slough off, in spring, the dead rind of the shoes'
leather detention, the big toe's yellow horn
shines with a natural polish . . .
from "Plague of Dead Sharks" by Alan Dugan
buff.ly/qDbN8Yp
October 11, 2025 at 1:02 PM
Who knows whether the sea heals or corrodes?
The wading, wintered pack-beasts of the feet
slough off, in spring, the dead rind of the shoes'
leather detention, the big toe's yellow horn
shines with a natural polish . . .
from "Plague of Dead Sharks" by Alan Dugan
buff.ly/qDbN8Yp
The wading, wintered pack-beasts of the feet
slough off, in spring, the dead rind of the shoes'
leather detention, the big toe's yellow horn
shines with a natural polish . . .
from "Plague of Dead Sharks" by Alan Dugan
buff.ly/qDbN8Yp
Live in the Triad? UNCG Creative Writing alum Evan Fackler will be reading his award-winning story "IDP’s.” tomorrow, Saturday, October 11th, at 2PM at Scuppernong Books, 304. S. Elm Street. buff.ly/9NVurHX
To read more about the Doris Betts Fiction Prize: buff.ly/Gugtaxf
To read more about the Doris Betts Fiction Prize: buff.ly/Gugtaxf
October 10, 2025 at 4:07 PM
Live in the Triad? UNCG Creative Writing alum Evan Fackler will be reading his award-winning story "IDP’s.” tomorrow, Saturday, October 11th, at 2PM at Scuppernong Books, 304. S. Elm Street. buff.ly/9NVurHX
To read more about the Doris Betts Fiction Prize: buff.ly/Gugtaxf
To read more about the Doris Betts Fiction Prize: buff.ly/Gugtaxf
The saris go by me from the embassies.
Cloth from the moon. Cloth from another planet.
They look back at the leopard like the leopard . . .
from "Woman at the Washington Zoo" by Randall Jarrell
buff.ly/qwgQWoI
Cloth from the moon. Cloth from another planet.
They look back at the leopard like the leopard . . .
from "Woman at the Washington Zoo" by Randall Jarrell
buff.ly/qwgQWoI
October 10, 2025 at 1:03 PM
The saris go by me from the embassies.
Cloth from the moon. Cloth from another planet.
They look back at the leopard like the leopard . . .
from "Woman at the Washington Zoo" by Randall Jarrell
buff.ly/qwgQWoI
Cloth from the moon. Cloth from another planet.
They look back at the leopard like the leopard . . .
from "Woman at the Washington Zoo" by Randall Jarrell
buff.ly/qwgQWoI
Nautilus Island's hermit
heiress still lives through winter in her Spartan cottage;
her sheep still graze above the sea.
Her son's a bishop. Her farmer
is first selectman in our village,
she's in her dotage . . .
from "Skunk Hour" by Robert Lowell
buff.ly/y688jSj
heiress still lives through winter in her Spartan cottage;
her sheep still graze above the sea.
Her son's a bishop. Her farmer
is first selectman in our village,
she's in her dotage . . .
from "Skunk Hour" by Robert Lowell
buff.ly/y688jSj
October 9, 2025 at 1:02 PM
Nautilus Island's hermit
heiress still lives through winter in her Spartan cottage;
her sheep still graze above the sea.
Her son's a bishop. Her farmer
is first selectman in our village,
she's in her dotage . . .
from "Skunk Hour" by Robert Lowell
buff.ly/y688jSj
heiress still lives through winter in her Spartan cottage;
her sheep still graze above the sea.
Her son's a bishop. Her farmer
is first selectman in our village,
she's in her dotage . . .
from "Skunk Hour" by Robert Lowell
buff.ly/y688jSj
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow
from "The Waking" by Theodore Roethke
buff.ly/ptkwRFo
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow
from "The Waking" by Theodore Roethke
buff.ly/ptkwRFo
October 8, 2025 at 1:02 PM
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow
from "The Waking" by Theodore Roethke
buff.ly/ptkwRFo
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow
from "The Waking" by Theodore Roethke
buff.ly/ptkwRFo
Identifying the Pathogen, the latest collection from UNCG Creative Writing alum Jennifer Millitello, is now available for pre-order from Tupelo Press buff.ly/D7yYSms @mfagreensboro.bsky.social
October 7, 2025 at 4:06 PM
Identifying the Pathogen, the latest collection from UNCG Creative Writing alum Jennifer Millitello, is now available for pre-order from Tupelo Press buff.ly/D7yYSms @mfagreensboro.bsky.social
So hangs the hour like fruit fullblown and sweet,
Our strict and desperate avatar,
Despite that antique westward gulls lament
Over enormous waters which retreat
Weary unto the white and sensual star . . .
from "San Francisco Night Windows" by Robert Penn Warren
buff.ly/meVeUMC
Our strict and desperate avatar,
Despite that antique westward gulls lament
Over enormous waters which retreat
Weary unto the white and sensual star . . .
from "San Francisco Night Windows" by Robert Penn Warren
buff.ly/meVeUMC
October 7, 2025 at 1:02 PM
So hangs the hour like fruit fullblown and sweet,
Our strict and desperate avatar,
Despite that antique westward gulls lament
Over enormous waters which retreat
Weary unto the white and sensual star . . .
from "San Francisco Night Windows" by Robert Penn Warren
buff.ly/meVeUMC
Our strict and desperate avatar,
Despite that antique westward gulls lament
Over enormous waters which retreat
Weary unto the white and sensual star . . .
from "San Francisco Night Windows" by Robert Penn Warren
buff.ly/meVeUMC
Your voice, with clear location of June days,
Called me outside the window. You were there,
Light yet composed, as in the just soft stare
Of uncontested summer all things raise
Plainly their seeming into seamless air . . .
from "June Light" by Richard Wilbur
buff.ly/fT1rID7
Called me outside the window. You were there,
Light yet composed, as in the just soft stare
Of uncontested summer all things raise
Plainly their seeming into seamless air . . .
from "June Light" by Richard Wilbur
buff.ly/fT1rID7
October 6, 2025 at 1:03 PM
Your voice, with clear location of June days,
Called me outside the window. You were there,
Light yet composed, as in the just soft stare
Of uncontested summer all things raise
Plainly their seeming into seamless air . . .
from "June Light" by Richard Wilbur
buff.ly/fT1rID7
Called me outside the window. You were there,
Light yet composed, as in the just soft stare
Of uncontested summer all things raise
Plainly their seeming into seamless air . . .
from "June Light" by Richard Wilbur
buff.ly/fT1rID7
Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets . . .
from "Epitaph on a Tyrant" by W.H. Auden
buff.ly/ShtDDhO
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets . . .
from "Epitaph on a Tyrant" by W.H. Auden
buff.ly/ShtDDhO
October 5, 2025 at 1:01 PM
Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets . . .
from "Epitaph on a Tyrant" by W.H. Auden
buff.ly/ShtDDhO
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets . . .
from "Epitaph on a Tyrant" by W.H. Auden
buff.ly/ShtDDhO
Live in the Triad? UNCG Creative Writing alum Evan Fackler will be reading his award-winning story "IDP’s.” one week from today (Saturday, October 11th) at 2PM at Scuppernong Books, 304. S. Elm Street. The ehttps://buff.ly/9NVurHX
To read more about the Doris Betts Fiction Prize: buff.ly/Gugtaxf
To read more about the Doris Betts Fiction Prize: buff.ly/Gugtaxf
October 4, 2025 at 4:02 PM
Live in the Triad? UNCG Creative Writing alum Evan Fackler will be reading his award-winning story "IDP’s.” one week from today (Saturday, October 11th) at 2PM at Scuppernong Books, 304. S. Elm Street. The ehttps://buff.ly/9NVurHX
To read more about the Doris Betts Fiction Prize: buff.ly/Gugtaxf
To read more about the Doris Betts Fiction Prize: buff.ly/Gugtaxf