Ariana Benson

Sep 13, 2023 | kenyonreview.org | Ariana Benson |Melissa Beneche |Allison Noelle Conner

FADE IN:A single plume of smoke rises at the edge of a steep, rocky cliff. We ZOOM OUT to see the land in the valley below, a camp of tents smoldering and decimated. The people below are gathering their things: a torn Goku T-shirt, a replica of Killua’s skateboard, now snapped in half, a giant Snorlax plushie missing a foot. NARRATORThe Black Fandom came close to being decimated by the Ashamed, the Normies, and, perhaps the most dangerous of all—the Gatekeeper.

Sep 12, 2023 | kenyonreview.org | Melissa Beneche |Ariana Benson |Erica Cardwell |Allison Noelle Conner

Jamiyla LoweShared Accommodation (2020)Digital drawing9 x 12 in. Art Melissa Beneche holds an MFA in fiction from Syracuse University.

Sep 4, 2023 | kenyonreview.org | Melissa Beneche |Ariana Benson |Leila Renee

Granny kept a closet for when we would die. It was a linen closet halfway through our hallway that reeked of mothballs and once-freshly-washed towels. And stacked on every shelf, still, were Paw’s clothes. Granny said it didn’t matter that Paw had passed six months earlier—he was still her husband of forty years. It was still her duty to safeguard his belongings. Granny had known for a week that Tuesday would be bad. According to WTOK, we were due the biggest tornado to ever hit Lauderdale County.

Apr 24, 2023 | therumpus.net | Ariana Benson

National Poetry Month Day 24: Ariana Benson Boll Weevil’s TheodicyDon’t evil exist to remind men of their weakness? Didn’t I dent the Devil’s chin, gnaw them holes in his pockets? And wasn’t I summoned to make white men believethat though they may own land, they live at Your mercy?

Mar 8, 2023 | yalereview.org | Ariana Benson

Ariana Benson           I. The flowers dying in the vase, the black-eyed susans and lavender, especially, refuse my unrefined pity, sorry in its own right. My stares filter through their dry wisps and catch on the tree in the yard, the one with the severed branch dangling, the dead limb almost as long and full as a boy some would call a man. I am ashamed that I do not know what kind of tree my mind has hung that body from.