Tag Archives: Andrew Hutto

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 →

Organizing contexts into the latent and the profane. Across the clearing elk lean against each other. When I was a kid I didn’t think about where my food came from.             Orion was the only constellation I could name. My eyes … Continue reading →