Andrew Hudgins

Love Poem | Birthday Cake
July 10, 2013 Hudgins Andrew

Love Poem


It’s an alliance,

the white pine

sending up

positive leaders

and the negative leaders

forking downward

from cumulonimbus

darkness, till

jittering opposites

touch, and the black

cloud discharges

down the passage

and into our pine

a Zeusian Godfuck.

Lit for an instant

we didn’t see

–not elegance,

but light, fire,

and shattering–

the front yard pine

tilted onto an oak.

Arriving home,

we paused, warm

in unexpected

sunlight, mystified.

Above us, a new

portal of bottomless

azure opened,

and in the soft light

we marveled first

at how we’d changed.



Birthday Cake


Eager for good

luck, I sputtered

pink wax

across brown icing

and “Andrew” spelled

in stale letters

peeled from a candy



Among torn

wrapping and small

gifts, I considered:

Six is finished,

seven begun.

Six of what?

Seven of how



   My brothers

ate two of the hard

green letters.  Most

of my name, I ate it.

Andrew Hudgins is the author of seven books of poetry, most recently American Rendering: New and Selected Poems (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2010) and Shut Up, You’re Fine: Instructive Poetry for Very, Very Bad Children (Overlook Press, 2009), with illustrations by Barry Moser. He is the author of numerous collections of poetry and essays, many of which have received high critical praise, such as The Never-Ending: New Poems (1991), which was a finalist for the National Book Awards; After the Lost War: A Narrative (1988), which received the Poets’ Prize; and Saints and Strangers (1985), which was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize.