A. McHugh

All You Need Is Love

You miss me like kites long for trees,
How Southern belles have dreams of a dollar store.
Because they say misfortunes come in threes:
How the homeless want recliners, or

You need me how the moon needs love:
You don't at all. And, anyway, that's four.
Kites must get sick of flying—and I'll prove
That debutants like deals. Feet sore,

Bums plunk down in La-Z-Boys,
Put up their barking dogs—and once before,
Drunk, you slurred it over barroom noise,
"You're jus'so guhd for me." What for? :

You need me, too—

and the moon, annoyed—(Or jealous?)—

Might have wanted love, but wouldn't tell us.

< back | next >

 

A. McHugh has been educated at The Ohio State University, Boston University and, most recently, at the University of Arkansas, where she is currently pursuing her MFA in Creative Writing; additionally, she is a co-editor of Linebreak. Her poetry has appeared in Unsplendid and Crab Orchard Review.