Wednesday, July 14th, 2010
“How the Mirror Looks This Morning” by Bob Hicok
Bob Hicok HOW THE MIRROR LOOKS THIS MORNING Probably the size of the six volt made it seem life-giving. I had wires, a drawer of red and green and black wires in a thicket where socks belonged, I had this idea that a six volt battery would bring the cat back to life and cut [...]
1 Comment » - Posted in Poems by Megan
Sunday, August 9th, 2009
“A Family Matter” by Bob Hicok
Bob Hicok A FAMILY MATTER Of course, when my mother asked that I give my wife a kiss for her, I did so, telling my wife, I am my mother, kissing you. My wife’s mother, it turns out, had asked the same, so of course she told me, I am my mother, kissing you back. [...]
1 Comment » - Posted in Poems by Megan
Monday, February 2nd, 2009
“Show and Tell” by Bob Hicok
Bob Hicok SHOW AND TELL Sky the color of warning. Well not red but pink, now salmon, it innovates faster than I have words to shape into clouds on their way to their new life in the midst of their old. There’s no stopping, no point at which a cloud kicks back and smokes a [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Timothy Green
Tuesday, January 6th, 2009
“Things Rich and Multiple and Alone” by Bob Hicok
Bob Hicok THINGS RICH AND MULTIPLE AND ALONE The litany goes on. First your hair in the toilet bowl casts a shadow on the bottom that resembles bacteria under the microscope at Livonia Stevenson, then there’s mice in the wall. These are pearls, he says to me, meaning the days I think, that I have [...]
1 Comment » - Posted in Awards,Poems by Timothy Green
Wednesday, December 3rd, 2008
“Lovely Day” by Bob Hicok
Bob Hicok LOVELY DAY The satisfaction finally of a good poop became a calling after washing his hands of his wife to ask about lunch on the steps of the museum. In the shushing of shoes against marble as people ran to art, he enjoyed his wife’s meat-loaf more than his mother’s for the first [...]
