Megan Grumbling’s work has appeared in Poetry, Crazyhorse, The Southern Review, The Iowa Review, The Antioch Review, and other journals. She was awarded a Ruth Lilly Poetry Fellowship; and

received a Robert Frost Foundation Award for Poetry. She serves as reviews editor

for the poetry and arts journal The Café Review. She is a theater critic for the Portland Phoenix. Her most recent work appears or is forthcoming in Unsplendid, Angle, and the Berlin

journal Sand.

On Libations: “My libation of choice is usually gin, and – happily – Maine has recently seen the rise of a bewildering array of gin distilleries. My favorites are the gins that remind me of the coldest, clearest, cleanest Maine sea water.“

Megan Grumbling

Suddenly a Grail

come autumn, once the crypt

is stripped of swillers: Lips

apart, I pant on, ring

around, beat ground again,

the tread and grunt of down,

packed dirt and nothing drunk

or wrong, no ruddy curse

to win – then something swerves

the day, steals breath, is saved

and stops me at the gate:

upturned on every cast

iron pike, one scarlet cup.

Photo by Tom Haydu