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“A Woman Witnesses Velvet Shedding” & “Chronic Pain” by Candice Kelsey



A Woman Witnesses Velvet Shedding


In the woods behind her house,

half a mile from the Savannah River,


she hears the bellow of a buck. Googling

white-tail deer, this woman learns it is rut season.


She takes a deep dive into the world of deer

hormones and is startled by the pairing


of two words— shedding and velvet. Life

is a series of odd pairings; paradox has


hardened her some. She then reads when

the buck’s antlers stop growing, losing


blood flow, their velvet covering peels

off. A velvet shedding madness happens


but a hundred yards from her bed, its own

paradox happening nightly. Could her


itch yield new antlers too? She too a complex

trophy as mating ensues under loblolly


pines. But rut season means hunting season.

Nothing will keep the bolt action rifles


from up the deer stand opening weekend.

Trail cameras show a trophy buck behind


the antlers. Look for the does, the hunting

websites advise— let their estrus work


for you. Tonight, she is startled by another

act of cruelty, reading about the British radio


host— Steve Allen— atop his platform,

the crosshairs of his tongue fixed on chubby


little thing Tilly Ramsay. Let us not forget,

taxidermists prepare for every girl.



Chronic Pain


A woman finds her husband has been on dating apps / she regrets looking through his iPad / insomnia / This isn’t the first time she’s had to find the hammer / Sometimes it’s in the junk drawer, sometimes under the sink / It seems to appear in her hand / She rubs her thumb over its steel head— cold & smooth & hardened like memory / Eight years earlier this woman earned a modest advance for her book / She bought a laptop / The day she approved the galleys, she went into labor / Her husband covered his eyes with his Dodgers hat / he couldn’t watch //

Their daughter broke through the amniotic sac / The new mother didn’t sleep for months / She soaked her swollen vagina in warm water, filled hospital gloves with ice and stuffed them into her panties to soothe the stitched flesh / Before long, she found herself using the hammer on the laptop— shards of glass & silicon & plastic landed in the creases of the stroller /

Her daughter is older and / she watches her mother on the front porch smashing the iPad with a hammer / her father comes home with a new tattoo that spells her mother’s name in cursive / as the girl’s thumb rubs over the bandage, she wonders how much it hurt.




Candice Kelsey is an educator and poet living in Georgia. She serves as a creative writing mentor with PEN America's Prison & Justice Writing Program; her work appears in Grub Street, Poet Lore, Lumiere Review, Hawai'i Pacific Review, and Poetry South among other journals. Recently, she was chosen as a finalist in Iowa Review's Poetry Contest and Cutthroat's Joy Harjo Poetry Prize. Find her @candicekelsey1 and www.candicemkelseypoet.com.

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