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Fever Dream: Scientific Management Area



   


This good earth seen through
    a window, a fulcrum.

Girl turning wildly,

incandescent, blistered, sharp
    as the edges of a soup can.

Who are you GOD?

At the first church there had been a bowl of water
    to wash each others feet.

As religion dissolved it also got
    stronger— 

    incendiary, polystyrene,

give that flash of heat something to stick to.

I needed to be saved from my own turning.

So here I am—emerged and newly green.
    That shedded-skin, cicada, phosphene.
Carolyn Orosz lives and writes in Vermont. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Iowa Review, 32 Poems, Copper Nickel, Pleiades, and elsewhere. She is the recipient of the 2025 Kenyon Review Developmental Editing Fellowship and a Vermont Arts Council Creation Grant. Her writing has also been supported by MacDowell, Vermont Studio Center, and Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference. She currently serves as a poetry reader for New England Review.