Andrew Hudgins
Praying Drunk
Our Father who art in heaven, I am drunk. Again. Red wine. For which I offer thanks. I ought to start with praise, but praise Comes hard to me. I stutter. Did I tell
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
The Unpromised Land, Montgomery, Alabama
Despite the noon sun shimmering on Court Street, Each day I leave my desk, and window-shop, Waste time, and use my whole lunch hour to stroll The route the marchers took. The walk is