Tori Grant Welhouse

CONTACT:
2967 School Lane
Suamico, WI 54313
torigw@twc.com
torigrantwelhouse.com

BIO:
Tori received her MFA from Antioch International in London. She now lives in rural Wisconsin where she's a Regional Vice President for WFOP and coordinates the poetry reading series HOTT houseofthetomato.com at The Reader's Loft, Green Bay. 

Her writing “manifesto” has always been these lines from Erica Jong: “If a woman wants to be a poet, she must dwell in the house of the tomato.” 

PUBLICATIONS:
Canned, Finishing Line Press, 2014

Poetry

Lost Soda

My sister died.
She left an open can of Diet Coke®
in the cup-holder.
I carted it around for months.
She liked to drive.
I preferred to read aloud
from the passenger's seat.
I hardly paid attention
to the dividing line.
She'd get me laughing
with her carmine inflection.
I could pucker at the rest.

Left alone with a Diet Coke®
and the never-ending
road construction, I took heed
of the orange cones:
detour, detour, detour.
I believed I was missing a bone
in my inner ear.
M i s p l a c e d,
I knew about carbonation,
citric acid,
sharp bubbles
in my throat.

Originally published in Broad!

Theory of Cake

You are an occasion.
Cake, in fact.
All your ingredients—
flour, sugar,

the look in your eyes—
measured parts
of a sucrose destiny.
You have memorized

yourself: finding fate
in the small spaces,
blending eggs, milk,
the air around your edges,

pouring the light-haired
batter: a mix of heat, poise, 
s o d i u m   b i c a r b o n a t e.
You froth an alchemy

that swells, gilding
aroma, deep-seated
as hipbones. Your
surface splits joy.

There’s a sheen to you,
made for buttercream;
the knack of hiding crust
with long-leg frosting.

You cube womanhood,
serving yourself up
with a party napkin—
thumbing the crumbs.

Originally published in The Greensboro Review