Poetry - Issue 08 | February 2010


by Hugh


“Nah, the old falling-down barn’s on purpose,”
both of us with our winter coats on now, walking
around the 1867 house that looks like it was built
yesterday, the old chicken coop that’s chickenless
now,walking out into the cornfields, the cobs all fuzzy
with their yellow-brown threads, “the house is
comfortable…it’s not that I either believe or don’t
believe in ghosts, but I’m almost there myself and
wherever else they may be…who knows, if I found
ghostprints on the snow I wouldn’t be suprised, I
can still hear my grandmother, ‘Finish that stew and
eat that corn down to the last kernel…if you want
any icecream and a piece of my Prague chocolate
cake,’ she used to always tell me that she wanted to
go back to Prague, find the old streets again, the old
cafes, the benches, river-spots…..”

About the author

Hugh Fox has been everywhere and done everything, and he’s not finished. Born in Chicago in1932, he contracted polio at age 5 but was cured with pre-Saulk experimental medicine. He’s published more than 100 books and his bibliography runs more than 100 pages.  Fox was a founding board member of the Pushcart Prize, editor of avant-garde literary magazine, Ghost Dance, and founder of an organization for little magazines and small presses ,COSMEP. He has reviewed thousands of chapbooks, magazines and books, and is the author of the first critical study of Charles Bukowski. He has a Ph.D. in American Literature from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, and was a professor at Michigan State University in the Department of American Thought and Language from 1968 until his retirement in 1999.

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