May 19, 2025I Owe You a Poem
after “Elegy Owed” by Bob Hicok
I’m not a carpenter, Mom, can’t
make you a cupboard, can’t
sew up the rip in your sofa’s arm, can’t
fix your sink. I don’t
own a saw or the right pliers or a wrench big enough.
I went to college.
I know a lot about the English Romantics
and poets
so recent they release videos
instead of books.
I would like to build you a poem
with a table saw and drill,
pneumatic staple gun and box knife
and frame it
like a recessed refrigerator,
like an electronic heated toilet seat,
like a thing you will use
every day.
from #87 – Spring 2025