Richard Hugo "We won’t all disappear on a remote country road in the Monroe Valley, but like The Admiral and his wife we are all going into the dark. Some of us hope that before we do we have been honest enough to scream back at the fates. Or if we never did it ourselves, that someone, derelict or poet, did it for us once in some euphonic way our inadequate capacity for love did not deny our hearing." “…I’ve seen the world tell us with wars and real estate developments and ba

by Tony Hoagland Maybe that is what he was after, my father, when he arranged, ten years ago, to be discovered in a mobile home with a woman named Roxanne, an attractive, recently divorced masseuse. He sat there, he said later, in the middle of a red, imitation-leather sofa, with his shoes off and a whisky in his hand, filling up with a joyful kind of dread-- like a swamp filling up with night, —while my mother hammered on the trailer door with a muddy, pried-up stone, the