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POETRY

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by Hugh Fox

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The Montréal Review, February 2011

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VERSUS


          Blunt stone casements and Hi-Def days
          that just as well could have been turned
          off, year-long Wednesdays and beer-out,
          slug-out Saturdays sliding into jingle
              dreamlands that never come....
                  Versus
                        Allegro
          wallless denominationless ecstatically-plussed
                  Now-Days
                just like back in Berkeley in 1958.



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GETTING INSIDE


              Getting inside the jocularing flute slides
              and sun-through-the-leaves viola skittering
              and cello-violin conversations ("Leave the
              way I am, he's the echo, not me!") of Mozart's
              Flute Quartet #1, state of the unioning, brain
              shattering, digging out (or death-down) gone
                  until the Rondeau takes its last breath.

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TURNING

              (Mozart's Flute Quartet #1)

              Turning sound into just the
              right sack-flow silk skirts and
              legs, the right sherry, sun on the
              invasion hills pacified for a
              thousand years now

                          wheat
                                              thistles
                                                God

                          grasses
                                                      maple sugarings

 

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  EVERY


          Every water-sip, chocolate-coated raisin
                  Xanax,
                entrance into shoes and suspenders
                  pillow toss-around,
                chemotherapeutic pill,
                        pulling on of sox,
              getting that first crap out
                    in the morning,
              twenty good-night kisses before
                  sleep-try time,
              last words on the last night,
                    drifting into nowhere

              as much ritual as the blessing of
                      wines,
                        vines,
                    god-births.


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Hugh Fox was born in Chicago in 1932. He spent his childhood studying violin, piano, composition and opera. He received a M.A. degree in English from Loyola University in Chicago and his Ph.D. in American Literature from the University of Illinois (Urbana-Champaign). He was a professor at Michigan State University in the Department of American Thought and Language from 1968 until his retirement in 1999. Fox is the author of the first critical study of Charles Bukowski and one of the founders of the Pushcart Prize.

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