at The Whitman-Stein Poetry Fest
Kit Kennedy


I eat things I can’t talk about.

Words short and direct

scare me.  Draw me close to fire.

Mussels, their weird worlds need no tinkering.

Pan seared.  Smoke is taste,

defiant as sweet, sour.  Heat shatters some shells.

Juice and broth taken into the lining of flesh.

Slits can’t close from their own abundance.

Firm ground gives way.  I taste salt from things

parents couldn’t say.  Fleshiness.  Garlic slivers

and parsley bound together.

Something brought out of ash.  I swear I hear voices

   of single women.

Kit Kennedy

published in The Harvard Gay & Lesbian Review,

Winter 1998, Volume V, No. 1


Kit Kennedy’s While Eating Oysters is published by CLWN WR BKS, Brooklyn.  Other work has appeared in A Bird Black as the Sun, Ambush Review, Great Weather for Media, Lavandaria, Pearl, The Pedestal Magazine

Kit lives in San Francisco and is Poet in Residence of The Bay Times and Curator of the Word at AWE Gallery. 

In brief:  Kit is a crone with red boots. The cat’s name is haiku.

Please visit:


San Francisco

Kit Kennedy reads Sappho