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Tag Archives: Andrew Hutto
For initiative, the pace of; none. Like taking a somewhere, to somewhere. That’d be final. Sure, it’s like this. A testament. The geese migrating across Kentucky. Moss, asserting themselves across the woodlands. Andrew Hutto is a GTA fellow at the … Continue reading
There, I can see it, there. Through and by. There is a thing, beguiled with itself. The way a loaf of bread goes hard after a few days, It’s the same way, here as there. Grab a drink from the … Continue reading
Chewing repeated phrases. Naming everything evergreen From spring to spring, it’s silent, Except for the naming. That contains the world. The egg yolk runs out of the eggshell, The photograph captures your back, at the stove, turning it over. Andrew … Continue reading
Perhaps, it goes like so. An heure, an elegy, smoking a few, catching on. There’re slabs of mind out here. Same as it is for you for me. Andrew Hutto is a GTA fellow at the University of Louisville pursuing … Continue reading
Perhaps, a crow. Perhaps circling, landing, crowing. There’s a metal rod in his knee that gets ice cold in February. Sits by the electric heater, mutters “hmm”. Perhaps, a comet comes and wipes us all out. That’d be something. Then … Continue reading
The bed frame contains, a small shadow off the door. The fan cycles air inside, out. Does it not seem suspicious? The way the keys are always hidden under the can of sweetcorn? Should I have not tugged my drawstring? … Continue reading
Throwing it, object-symbolic out window. Lazy like careful. I love through some other. If it’s preeminent, hold back the tent flaps so, I can guess what shadow your fingers make. Has a hole always been in your head? Or … Continue reading
Was a name called not often by the few sullen expressions? A caterpillar hugs the blanket edge. Flick match into burn pile. Warrant not avowal of moniker? The strung-outs kiss me on the feet. Tremble asleep and I will not … Continue reading
Drum beat on high-higher tempo a reverberation ripple in-ground— Expect this to be a time of great appreciation. Apocalypse in eyelids. Resected vindication. Known-world underwater. Andrew Hutto writes out of Louisville, KY. He was recently awarded third place in the … Continue reading
“Over the burning marl” – John Milton, Paradise Lost I.295 Easy to assure, to seize by other means the confidence needed to rightfully press down on the applicator. Get it gone out of mind the scenes of pre- projected New … Continue reading