Read A Clown at Midnight: Poems by Andrew Hudgins Online

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“Recklessness and rigor, in equal measure, mark the stirring poetics of Andrew Hudgins in this fine new book. Hudgins can wrestle a rhyme scheme into submission with one hand tied behind his back and can penetrate the black heart of history with a single, subtly rendered detail. He laughs with Democritus and weeps with Heraclitus and, line by distillate line, contrives a t“Recklessness and rigor, in equal measure, mark the stirring poetics of Andrew Hudgins in this fine new book. Hudgins can wrestle a rhyme scheme into submission with one hand tied behind his back and can penetrate the black heart of history with a single, subtly rendered detail. He laughs with Democritus and weeps with Heraclitus and, line by distillate line, contrives a tonic antidote to “the acetone / of American inattention.” — Linda GregersonIn A Clown at Midnight Andrew Hudgins offers a meditation on humor with a refreshing poignancy and cutting wit. He touches on love and nature, but at its core this collection is about the consolations and terrors, the delights and discomforts, of laughter, taking its title from a quote by Lon Chaney Sr.: “The essence of true horror is a clown at midnight.” Skillfully probing paradoxes, Hudgins conjures the titular clown: “Down these mean streets a bad joke walks alone / bruised head held low, chin tucked in tight, eyes down / defiant. He laughs and it turns to a moan.” Hudgins gives us utter honesty and accessible verse, exploring moments both uncomfortable and satirical while probing the impulse to confront life’s most demanding trials with laughter.“Hudgins’s poems are often funny, hinging on a joke or wisecrack or malapropism, but human nature red in tooth and claw has always been his greatest theme.” — BookPage...

Title : A Clown at Midnight: Poems
Author :
Rating :
ISBN : 9780544108806
Format Type : Paperback
Number of Pages : 112 Pages
Status : Available For Download
Last checked : 21 Minutes ago!

A Clown at Midnight: Poems Reviews

  • Grady
    2018-09-29 14:04

    `A meditation on humor, ruminating on the consolations and terrors, delights and discomforts of laughter.'Critic Linda Gregerson, in commenting on this new book of poems by prize winning poet Andrew Hudgins, `Recklessness and rigor, in equal measure, mark the stirring poetics of Andrew Hudgins in this fine new book. Hudgins can wrestle a rhyme scheme into submission with one hand tied behind his back and can penetrate the black heart of history with a single, subtly rendered detail. He laughs with Democritus and weeps with Heraclitus and, line by distillate line, contrives a tonic antidote to "the acetone / of American inattention." Andrew Hudgins offers a meditation on humor with a refreshing poignancy and cutting wit. He touches on love and nature, but at its core this collection is about the consolations and terrors, the delights and discomforts, of laughter, taking its title from a quote by Lon Chaney Sr.: "The essence of true horror is a clown at midnight."It may take the reader some time to `catch' Hudgins tunes, but once the cadence is set and appreciated the seemingly loose thought in his poetry become very pointed and purposeful. Much of what this book contains is hinted in the title poem and it is shared here:A CLOWN A MIDNIGHTDown these mean streets a bad joke walks alone,bruised head held low, chin tucked in tight, eyes down,defiant. He laughs and it turns to a moan.His wife left years ago, and his kids all groan,claim they have never heard of him, and frown.Down these mean streets a bad joke walks alone,jiving with fat whores in the combat zoneand moving on each time they put him down.Defiant, he laughs though it turns to a moan -a sense of humor turning on its ownsick pivot. He knows you think he's just a clown.Down these mean streets a bad joke walks alone.He is a clown - but dangerous, flyblown,stinking of bitterest cologne.Defiant, he laughs and it turns to a moan.He doesn't want to rub your funny Bone.He wants to break it - break it, then skip town.Down these mean streets a bad joke walks alonebut defiant. He laughs and it turns to a moan.AT THE DMVAt the DMV, I'd alreadyassessed the ass,compact beneath tautblue charmeuse,of a woman in line, andI was staring nowhere,thinking nothing,when she walked pastand without stopping said,"White shirt, khaki pants.You haven't changed."Two nights later , as I slidtoward another dreamof water-damaged houses,marred love, and tensefriendships, the shape of her namelike virga between my faceand a hunter's moon- almost Brenda or Linda -- almost McSomething -nearly came back to me.Or in just a very few lines of tossed words he can fling confetti as in the following:THE WILD SWANS SKIP COOLEWe beat wings.fly rings. Wescorn Yeats. Wehave mates. Wewon't stay. Wefly `way.Andrew Hudgins is a major voice. Hear him well. Grady Harp

  • Daniel Klawitter
    2018-10-22 16:56

    There is a lot to like here in Andrew Hudgin's 8th book of poetry...including the funniest "mean" poem I think I've read entitled "Princess after Princess." The juxtaposition of comedy and tragedy (often in the same poem) is a thread running throughout this collection. But the author is also skillful in straight-up "light" verse as well, for example:The Wild Swans Skip CooleWe beat wings.fly rings. Wescorn Yeats. Wehave mates. Wewon't stay. Wefly `way.Most of the poems here though go well beyond surface amusement and touch the heart of something human and complicated. I also learned a new word from his last poem in the book "Beyond My Footfall." The word is: coruscant...meaning "giving forth flashes of light." An apt adjective for A Clown at Midnight.

  • Lydia Ship
    2018-10-14 16:48

    Like the title, these poems juxtapose comedy and tragedy, humor and darkness - one necessitating the other, as Hudgins shows us when one day his younger self, lamenting the drudgery of unfulfilled potential, "that's/what I think of when/I think of my twenties," suddenly comes upon a startling image:and one day I openedan umbrella and sawinside it the largebrick house I'd own,a house ownedby other owners,a wife who'd beensomeone else's wife,as I had beensomeone's husband,and I was smiling a smilesmiled by many happy people.It is both a look forward and a look back, the layers of time showing us how sorrow and joy can overlap, and be appreciated, even revered, without losing a playful spirit.

  • Megan Hodgson
    2018-10-20 12:54

    Love love love love. Full review on my blog at: http://booksandteaandtghtsfromme.tumb...

  • Will
    2018-09-25 12:53

    "AUTUMN'S AUTHORIn his dissolving mansion, autumn's authoris an exhausted autocrat, dying fasterthan the falling house is falling. Rainfall, rawand raucous, claws the roof as he dodders downbroad halls, rattling knobs inalterably locked.Once all gloss, paunch, and wanton frivolity,he's now all thought, not somersault or song,and he wonders what those lost enthrallments meant.He knows they weren't false, though behind the last,unlocked knob, a chalk-faced pallbearer coughs."