David Huddle: What is Unknown
When I tell her I’ve fallen for What Is Unknown, my mother’s face brightens. “She’ll be a good girlfriend for you,” my mother says. “Not stuck up like that trashy Well Known.
David Huddle: Villanelle for Lady Day
Billie said, “If I’m going to sing like someone
else, then I don’t need to sing at all.” Let’s
just say I was white and knew how to conform.
David Huddle: Parable of My Family’s Artistic Impulses
My father, affectionately known
by his sons as Doodles, took up painting-by-the-numbers.
His vision of blue jays hung over the toilet to be
reckoned with by any urinating male.
David Huddle: Parable of the Same Scene Every Day for Years
Consider my mother gazing out her window
over the kitchen sink as she washes breakfast, lunch,
and dinner dishes for fifty-some years.
David Huddle: Parable of the 4 a.m. Demons
My mind yearns for sleep so innocently it refuses
the perverse truth…
David Huddle: The Watermelon Sutras
In the act of eating watermelon no one
ever pulled a trigger, spoke harshly
to a child, swatted a butterfly out
of the sky, or told a lie for money.
David Huddle: Box of Rocks
Exactly what kind of rocks are in that box our buffoon of a leader is allegedly dumber than, because certain mineral deposits–say those that contain fossils of prehistoric forms of … Continue reading