Andrew Hudgins

Andrew Hudgins Poems

My father cinched the rope,
a noose around my waist,
and lowered me into
the darkness. I could taste
...

After my night job, I sat in class
and ate, every thirteen minutes,
an orange peanut—butter cracker.
Bright grease adorned my notes.
...

Home (from Court Square Fountain—
where affluent ghosts still importune
a taciturn
slave to entertain
...

4.

When we first heard from blocks away
the fog truck's blustery roar,
we dropped our toys, leapt from our meals,
and scrambled out the door
...

5.

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,
...

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.
...

Andrew Hudgins Biography

Andrew Hudgins was born into a military family and spent his early childhood moving from base to base. When he was in high school, his family made its last move, to Montgomery, Ala., where his father subsequently retired from the service. Although an average student, Hudgins read voraciously as a child. He decided to become a writer, but, to please his parents who were concerned about his ability to support himself, he earned a teaching certificate while attending college. After graduating in 1974 with a BA in English and history from Huntingdon College, he taught for one year in the Montgomery public school system. To further his writing ambitions, Hudgins attended the University of Alabama, earning an MA in English in 1976. He then spent two years studying at Syracuse University in New York. Upon his return to Montgomery, he taught composition as an adjunct instructor at Auburn University at Montgomery. He then enrolled in the Writers' Workshop program at the University of Iowa, from which he earned an MFA in 1983. He joined the English department at the University of Cincinnati in 1985 and is now on the English faculty of Ohio State University. Hudgins began publishing his work while still in graduate school. His first book of poems, Saints and Strangers, was published in 1985 and was a Pulitzer Prize finalist. In addition to his many literary awards, Hudgins has also held a number of fellowships in poetry, including residencies at Yaddo and the MacDowell Colony, a fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts in 1986, and a Guggenheim Fellowship in 2004. Interests and Themes Some of Andrew Hudgins's poetry has been seen to embody the Southern Gothic tradition: grotesque imagery combined with a strong sense of history, religion, and family. Some of his poems are narrative and are told from the points of view of historic or religious figures. He has also written and published personal essays and literary criticism. Literary Awards Witter Bynner Award, American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters, 1988 Alabama Author Award, Alabama Library Association, 1988, for Saints and Strangers Hanes Award for Poetry, Fellowship of Southern Writers, 1995 Alabama Author Award, Alabama Library Association, 1996, for The Glass Hammer: A Southern Childhood Harper Lee Award for Alabama's Distinguished Writer, 2005, Alabama Writers' Forum and Alabama Writers Symposium)

The Best Poem Of Andrew Hudgins

In The Well

My father cinched the rope,
a noose around my waist,
and lowered me into
the darkness. I could taste

my fear. It tasted first
of dark, then earth, then rot.
I swung and struck my head
and at that moment got

another then: then blood,
which spiked my mouth with iron.
Hand over hand, my father
dropped me from then to then:

then water. Then wet fur,
which I hugged to my chest.
I shouted. Daddy hauled
the wet rope. I gagged, and pressed

my neighbor's missing dog
against me. I held its death
and rose up to my father.
Then light. Then hands. Then breath.

Andrew Hudgins Comments

Peilin 05 January 2018

Mackenzie Ryan Jordan

0 0 Reply
Sherry Woodard 16 April 2014

Loved In the Well. It pulled me in with a wonderful surprise ending. I hope to learn from your writing it is awesome! !

1 3 Reply
Sandra Larimore 25 March 2014

Your poem, In The Well, reminded me of an incident when I was eight. As an eight year old child, I was playing with my Boston Terrier, Ritzi. All of a sudden, she disappeared into the ground! I screamed for my brother, who was fourteen at the time. It was an old well or sink-hole, about twelve or fifteen deep, with water, also deep. My brother climbed into it, and rescued my dog, who was paddling and splashing, going under, before re-surfacing! I had dressed her in doll clothes, and I'm sure it further hindered her ability to swim. I didn't think how close I came to falling in, as I had been walking backward, holding her two front legs. I don't think anyone would have heard me, had it been me, as we lived on a ranch, and my brother, cleaning in the barn, was quite a ways off. He told me later, that he had to listen close to the sound of my calling, because it may have been the wind, which is relentless here in Wyoming. At least my experience had a happy ending. I enjoy your writing.

2 2 Reply
Gilbert Gia 24 March 2014

Starts with the familiar, concrete, moves to self, leaves reader wondering Am I right?

2 2 Reply
Mary Reid 23 March 2014

engaging poetry; sense of surreal that I like

0 4 Reply

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