Corinne Herlihy’s Reviews > We Inherit What the Fires Left: Poems > Status Update
Corinne Herlihy
is on page 111 of 160
“Ghosts canvassed the neighborhood until we gentrified the departed.”
“They never knew each other but now I connect them like a bowstring.”
— Jul 23, 2025 06:25AM
“They never knew each other but now I connect them like a bowstring.”
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Corinne’s Previous Updates
Corinne Herlihy
is on page 77 of 160
“He could make me famous with trespass.”
“I have…driven into a night’s percussion looking for something to empty.”
— Jul 20, 2025 07:39PM
“I have…driven into a night’s percussion looking for something to empty.”
Corinne Herlihy
is on page 63 of 160
“I wonder if I could be so vacated by loss”
“How do you know what you have a taste for if you’ve been told to never show your teeth?”
— Jun 27, 2025 05:48AM
“How do you know what you have a taste for if you’ve been told to never show your teeth?”
Corinne Herlihy
is on page 43 of 160
watched cemeteries get fat / on his friends
my father, who marched against the war, / stepped around a uniform by getting a master’s / degree,
a spider, dangling like a proposal / from the light
— May 18, 2025 06:12AM
my father, who marched against the war, / stepped around a uniform by getting a master’s / degree,
a spider, dangling like a proposal / from the light
Corinne Herlihy
is on page 31 of 160
“a fallen night’s worth of first in her face.”
“I can no longer tell
the season by what collects beneath us.”
“until they have
become ravenous with want,”
— May 09, 2025 05:49PM
“I can no longer tell
the season by what collects beneath us.”
“until they have
become ravenous with want,”
Corinne Herlihy
is on page 17 of 160
Every nightfall
is a black they can’t murder.
I am reminded of what can outlive me.
picking the wild from each other
Not every morning is made from
God, so it is left to me to improvise
I never
know what windows are worth
destroying.
There are no people among
the macabre, unless you count the ghosts.
— May 03, 2025 04:30AM
is a black they can’t murder.
I am reminded of what can outlive me.
picking the wild from each other
Not every morning is made from
God, so it is left to me to improvise
I never
know what windows are worth
destroying.
There are no people among
the macabre, unless you count the ghosts.
