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Kelly Cherry


Not the Phil Donahue Show

This is not the Phil Donahue show; this is my life. So why is my daughter, who is 20 years old and, to me, so heartbreakingly beautiful that I think that for the sake of the health of the entire world and probably universe she shouldn't be allowed [...]


Our man in London rang: the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Moscow had told the American officials there that they would not grant me a Tourist Visa. They said I could enter only on a private visitor's Ordinary Visa. And then they said that my fi [...]

Where She Was

Summer 1988 | Fiction

My mother was a child in Lockport, Louisiana, where there were six "good" houses distinguishable from the small row houses, each with a two-seated outhouse in the back yard, in which the unskilled workers, most of whom were Cajún, lived. To the ea [...]


In the bar at the Fess Hotel, where a young professional crowd hung out and met one another without quite being on the prowl—so that if you just wanted to sit and talk with someone without its going any farther, that was okay—she met an Assistant [...]