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      July 29, 2024Political ActionBob Hicok

      Every time it snows, she walks twelve blocks
      and makes a snow angel in front of the Supreme Court
      for her son who was shot and killed
      two blocks away seven years ago by a boy
      who was shot and killed three weeks later.
      Does anyone know for sure if vulture shadows
      are prettier than the real thing?
      Thanks to the telephone, she can cry together
      in different cemeteries with her sister
      for different sons.
      There are so many options. Wear blue socks
      to the Rapture or no socks or a different pair
      of blue socks or no socks. Visit everyone
      she’s not listened to fully and ask,
      Will you say that again? meaning everything.
      Turn the shade of redwoods into a perfume
      and spread it over DC from a plane.
      Do you think she could do that?
      I think she could do that, but she’s very busy
      being clawed to death from the inside out.
      The heart is a mouth with an appetite
      for itself and winter is coming.
      By that I mean, winter is always here.

      from #84 – The Ghazal

      Bob Hicok

      “I like starting poems. After I start a poem, I like getting to the middle, and after the middle, an end seems a good thing to reach. When the end is reached, I like doing everything that isn’t writing poems, until the next day, when my desk is exactly where I left it, though I am a slightly different person than the last time we met.”