Author: Hunt Hawkins

River (Waterways)

  Standing in the front room, unable to remember why I came here, perhaps for a notepad, I notice a butterfly through the old glass wavy windows, its blue wings wavy, zig-zagging from bloom to bloom but never returning to the same one, and beyond, the golfers, old guys since it’s mid-morning mid-week and they don’t have to work moving up the eighteenth fairway, sometimes hitting an oak but generally progressing to the green where long ago God appeared to the evangelist, now dying in a hospital in North Carolina but then young, telling him to preach salvation, and...

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Old Veteran Cypress (Waterways)

[There’s water everywhere in Hunt Hawkins’ “Old Veteran Cypress,” but in this poem focused on a single unmoving tree the ways of water are mysterious. We move from one body of water (including that of the nearly drowned poet) to another, and water’s movements are compared to memory’s. But are there other connections as well, as for example to the American (imperial?) urge to travel and its risks?            — John McClure] Memory murkier than the ocean, I forgot why my mother, ashes now at rest in Chambersburg, had the painting currently hanging in our...

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America Apologizes

By Hunt Hawkins.   We didn’t do it of course, it happened so long ago, but we’re truly sorry for the Tuskegee syphilis experiment and also the sterilization of retarded people in the ’20s that inspired Hitler, the Rosewood massacre and Groveland Four (what were those white women thinking?), not to mention the Scottsboro boys and poor Leo Frank, nor forgetting Sacco and Vanzetti, though perhaps they deserved it, but we do regret children working in the mills in Pownal, the Chinese Exclusion Act, General Funston’s capture of Aguinaldo, Red Summer, the bombing of Tulsa, Japanese internment, the Trail...

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