C.N.P Poetry 

  • Cathexis Northwest Press

As if the Sun Could Quench

By: Jenny Keto



a cut orange in

drought—to bite into


wet flesh after tachy-

heart cardio burns


breath hot as air

air hot as breath


climbing Mount Bonnell

up the peak of Texas


summer heat—as is

my afternoon routine.


I pass passersby

panting as their dogs


do legside. We’re all

beating hearts—breath—


legs—feet—steps—up—down—

all sweat drenched, but for


mouths—a sun tacky cotton

asking for ah—like


Allah—Ah!—such

sweet, wet quenching. When


summit greets me

standing at


the edge of precipice,

all lake waves flirt with light


winks, and my muscles

hum blush to the song of sun heat.


Like the greatest refrain,

I answer my thirst


with pressed rind into

lips— a drip—as teeth dig for


what sunset color

this pulp keeps


in so many tight, slick

pockets—to pierce and let


seep from lips—to lips—in mouth—

on tongue—ah, what sweet release!




Jenny Keto is a poet, a psychiatric nurse, a former actress, a proud Austinite, and an origami enthusiast. She's counting on a wish after 1,000 cranes folded, and 1,000 poems written. Much of her poetry grapples with the space between the heart and the intractable mind and has appeared or is forthcoming in Stanchion Zine, Cathexis Northwest Press, Déraciné Magazine, Francis House, The Conglomerate, wards, Broken City, and Visitant.