Heather McHugh

(20 August 1948 / San Diego, California)

Heather McHugh Poems

1. U-District Incident Report 4/24/2012
2. Constructive 4/24/2012
3. Better Or Worse 4/24/2012
4. After Su Tung P'O 4/24/2012
5. Dark View 4/24/2012
6. Elevated 4/24/2012
7. From The Tower 4/24/2012
8. Half Border, Half Lab 4/24/2012
9. Leaf Litter On Rock Face 4/24/2012
10. Myrrha To The Source 4/24/2012
11. Not To Be Dwelled On 4/24/2012
12. Philosopher Orders Crispy Pork 4/24/2012
13. REMAINS TO BE SEEN 10/18/2018
14. ELEVATED 10/18/2018
15. Space Bar 10/18/2018
16. After Su Tung P'o 10/18/2018
17. The Amenities 10/18/2018
18. Better or Worse 10/18/2018
19. Constructive 10/18/2018
20. Dark View 10/18/2018
21. Debtor's Prison Road 10/18/2018
22. From the Towers 10/18/2018
23. Half Border and Half Lab 10/18/2018
24. In Praise of Pain 10/18/2018
25. Inside 10/18/2018
26. Language Lesson 1976 10/18/2018
27. Leaf Litter on Rock Face 10/18/2018
28. Man in the Street or Hand Over Mouth 10/18/2018
29. Not Over It 10/18/2018
30. No Sex for Priests 10/18/2018
31. Myrrha to the Source 10/18/2018
32. Not to Be Dwelled On 10/18/2018
33. The Oven Loves the TV Set 10/18/2018
34. Philosopher Orders Crispy Pork 10/18/2018
35. The Woman Who Laughed on Calvary 10/18/2018
36. What He Thought 10/18/2018
37. Debtor's Prison Road 4/24/2012
38. Inside 4/24/2012
39. Amenities 4/24/2012
40. The Oven Loves The Tv Set 4/24/2012

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Best Poem of Heather McHugh

What He Thought

We were supposed to do a job in Italy
and, full of our feeling for
ourselves (our sense of being
Poets from America) we went
from Rome to Fano, met
the Mayor, mulled a couple
matters over. The Italian literati seemed
bewildered by the language of America: they asked us
what does "flat drink" mean? and the mysterious
"cheap date" (no explanation lessened
this one's mystery). Among Italian writers we

could recognize our counterparts: the academic,
the apologist, the arrogant, the amorous,
the brazen and the glib. And there was ...

Read the full of What He Thought

Stroke

The literate are ill-prepared for this
snap in the line of life:
the day turns a trick
of twisted tongues and is
untiable, the month by no mere root
moon-ridden, and the yearly eloquences yielding more
than summer's part of speech times four. We better learn

the buried meaning in the grave: here

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