Andrew Hudgins
Steppingstone by Andrew Hudgins

Steppingstone by Andrew Hudgins

Home (from Court Square Fountain— where affluent ghosts still importune a taciturnslave to entertainthem with a slow barbarous tune in his auctioned baritone—to Hank ...

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In The Well by Andrew Hudgins

In The Well by Andrew Hudgins

My father cinched the rope,a noose around my waist,and lowered me intothe darkness. I could tastemy fear. It tasted firstof dark, then earth, then rot.I swung and struck my ...

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In by Andrew Hudgins

In by Andrew Hudgins

When we first heard from blocks awaythe fog truck's blustery roar,we dropped our toys, leapt from our meals,and scrambled out the doorinto an evening briefly fuzzy.We yearned to ...

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Playing Dead by Andrew Hudgins

Playing Dead by Andrew Hudgins

Our father liked to play a game. He played that he was dead. He took his thick black glasses off and stretched out on the bed. He wouldn't twitch and didn't snore ...

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Blur by Andrew Hudgins

Blur by Andrew Hudgins

Storms of perfume lift from honeysuckle,lilac, clover—and drift across the threshold,outside reclaiming inside as its home.Warm days whirl in a bright unnumberable blur,a cup—a ...

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Day Job And Night Job by Andrew Hudgins

Day Job And Night Job by Andrew Hudgins

After my night job, I sat in classand ate, every thirteen minutes,an orange peanut—butter cracker.Bright grease adorned my notes.At noon I rushed to my day joband pushed a broom ...

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