write this
emmer effer
a pretend genius broadsuction
some days are better than none
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       Seventy-seven years totally soaked in Torahs,
       New Testaments, Korans, Upanishads, Popul
       Vuhs, Moonlight Sonatas and not-so-sleeping
       beauties from age five on, then marriage to a
       Peruvian, an immersion in ancient Peruvian,
       Bolivian, Chilean, Mexican, Amazonian ruins,
       four books published on ancient
       pre-Columbian theology/world-viewing....
       watching the evening news (especially BBC)                 
       every night, travelling to Brazil every few
       months, still fathering and grand-fathering,
       ex-husbanding,supported by/married to a
       Brazilian M.D. who makes a fortune every
       month, trying to make sense out of the
       whole Tsunami, earthquake, 80 billion
       galaxy, Chicago kid-murders, pocket-bombs,
       rocket-nuke showing off.....ending up simply
       staring out the borning, thriving, dying,

The Hugh Fox Issue
                                  It’s the Hugh Fox Issue
The Hugh Fox Issue              

           “I am the younger brother of
            Jesus-Moses, born on Sinai
            at the break of winter dusk,
           and I have come back to reborn
               the world!”
              “Not reborn, re-create”
               I created language:
               PHUL-KARI, and.....”
           “First step, total anihilation,
           step two Adam II from the
           mouth of Zootropic I Walking
           Stick that eats brainless,
           feel-less, painless LEAVES.”

Hugh Fox Hugh Fox Hugh Fox Hugh Fox
Hugh Fox Hugh Fox Hugh Fox Hugh Fox
           Much too serious in Mediterranean
           Veg-Out, Calypso Grilled Chicken,
           Chocolate Cheese Cake heaven,
           twenty-four, dietician, storm weather
           report but the sun blazes out across
           the lead sky, eternity-skull in fancy
           burial-world, how about a now that
                   just says
                      (Java Chip)

Hugh Fox Hugh Fox Hugh Fox Hugh Fox

           Reinventing snowbird resurrection
           for a moment last night as I
           four AM slid into the local
           hill-gully RIPT trashbox sense of
           curtain-down not-to-be


           Dozing-off after the hot chocolate,
           Dream One, firing square in the dark,
           I can’t see the faces of the fire-ers,
           then hanging in the rec room from
           one of the beams, wearing my antique
           grey tweed Outer Hebrides suit-coat
           and cap, that fall as my neck snaps,
           then in the control room on this
           cargo-ship off the Somalian coast,
           pirates in a dinghy starting to shoot,
           I rev up the engine, turn it into a
           speed boat, then eating arsenic mangos
           in the Amazon, down I go, off the
           sofa in the indoor tree house in
           Chelsea, Beatrice (2) trying to swing
           on the plastic rings hanging from the
           purple bars,not quite making it as the
           little boy next to me, playing with a toy
           railroad car and wooden tracks, says
           “I’m Henry,” points to a little blonde
           girl on a swing, “That’s Yvette...we’re
           from Montreal.”


         and coronary
     non three-cornered

all poems ©Hugh Fox

         WHO’S WHO               
Born in Chicago, 1932, polio at age 5, cured with new pre-Saulk experimental medicine, childhood immersed in opera, violin, piano, musical composition, art by his ex-violinist-turned-M.D. father, and frustrated actress mother, then 3 years of pre-med and a year of Medicine, dropped out of medical school and got a B.S. (Hum.) and M.A.(English) from Loyola U.in Chicago, first trip to Paris, London, Florence, Rome, Amsterdam, etc., then a Ph.D.in American Literature from the U. of Illinois (Urbana-Champaign).Married Peruvian poet Lucia Ungaro de Zevallos. Prof. of American Literature, Loyola University in Los Angeles (now Loyola Marymount University), 1958-1968,Professor in the Department of American Thought and Language, Michigan State University (1968-1999). Now retired, Professor Emeritus. Fulbright Professor of American Studies/Literature, U. of Hermosillo, Mexico, 1961, U. Católica and Institúto Pedagógico, Caracas, 1964-1966,  U. of  Florianópolis, Brazil, 1978-1980. Married Maria Bernadete Costa  M.D. 1 yr. studying Lt. Am. culture at Mendoza Foundation (Caracas) with Mariano Picon-Salas. Organization of American States Grant to study Latin American Studies/Argentinian Literature, U. of Buenos Aires, 1971. John Carter Brown Library Fellowship, Brown U., 1968 (Studies in sixteenth and seventeenth century Spanish economics and avant-garde literature). OAS grant as archaeologist, Atacama Desert, Chile, 1986.Lectures in Spain and Portugal 1975-’76. Founder and Board of Directors member of COSMEP, the International Organization of Independent Publishers, from 1968 until its death in 1996. Editor of  Ghost Dance: The International Quarterly of Experimental Poetry, 1968-1995. Latin American editor of Western World Review & North American Review,  during 60’s. Former contributing reviewer on Smith/ Pulpsmith, Choice etc. currently contributing reviewer to SPR and SMR.105 books published, the most recent Defiance (Higganum Hill Press, 2007) (poetry), Finalmente/Finally  (Solo Press, 2007) (poetry), Opening the Door to French Film (World Audience, 2007) , Rediscovering America (World Audience, 2009) (archaeology), Alex (poetry chapbook, Rubicon Press), Peace/LaPaix (Higganum Hill,2008, another poetry chapbook), The Collected Poetry (World Audience, 2008...540 pages), Icehouse & The Thirteen Keys to Talmud (Crossing Chaos Press in London, Ontario. A novella and sci fi novel, 2009), Revoir (s.stories, All Things that Matter Press, 2009).  Total bibliography (including published poems, essays, plays, stories, reviews, etc. over a hundred pages long.


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previous issue:
volume 4, issue vi, 10.31.2009

upcoming themes:  submit here

fuck this apocalypse - issue 4.10
Opening Date: December 22nd
Closing Date: February 1st
Publication Date: February 21st

Summation: Every generation thinks that they are living at the cusp of the apocalypse, and we are no different.  But that apocalypse is so much more than the mundane end of the world.  The word comes from a Greek word meaning the "unveiling" or "revelation."  What could be sexier than an unveiling?  What is fucking but a divine revelation?   As Wikipedia (an always reliable source) states, the apocalypse might more accurately be thought of as, "the disclosure to certain privileged persons of something hidden from the majority of humankind."  It is, thus, a revelation of the secret history or unspoken truth of the world, of existence, of the cosmos, or simply of humanity, or even more simply, of the naked human body.

We want to tell the story of the real apocalypse, the erotic apocalypse, and we want your help.  Send us your stories of revelation, and hey, we wouldn't mind it if they happened to be apocalyptic in the more common, modern sense of the word as well.  And remember, in honor of St. Valentine's Day, make it fucking hot!

disclaimer:  write this content does not necessarily reflect the views of all write this contributors. happy flails.
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the write this message board

yeah, we've got a new feature. the write this message board. go there for interviews and other things like duels (?). from now on authors that we publish must join the message board in order to be interviewed. we'd like past authors to join as well. but you can leave messages there for us and for each other and even get messages back. sometimes the editors write there. you can write there also. but go there. it's where you want to be. our people have tested it and it works. go on...
Infamous author Aden Bell attempts to seduce a Dover edition of Gertrude Stein's famous book, Tender Buttons
more from cafe hopeless
an evening with tender buttons
interviews with writers we have recently published or iwwwhrp for short

alice godwin

catherine edmunds

derek john

janet tay
the Hugh Fox interview

'chi chi' the screaming went. 'write this wants you to find hugh fox and interview him'. nonny toocomplete is handing me the phone with the kind of sway that can only suggest she is eager to advance my career. they had already hung up on the other end but i knew that if they had come to me it was because the aliens had crashed while trying to land. hugh fox, eh? the hugh fox bibliography alone is 108 microsoft word pages in helvetica 12. he shouldn't be too hard to find. but he wasn't at home so i quit. write this called back and told me i was on a deadline. i didn't know what to do so i went to utah and asked around. it was iktomi who put me onto fox originally. not iktomi himself but one of his agents. i could tell by the point of his bangs from the temples inward as an arrow pointing at his nose. south. so south i went.

i was sitting along the side of the road in Veracruz-Llave having lunch and noticed an old woman. i call her old but she wasn't that old.

read it all

"this is my bedroom..."
Hugh Fox
recommended reading:
mean confession
by dean strom

Poems of the style that made Pretend Genius Press what it was before they were famous.

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