Bob Hicok

(1960 - / Michigan)

Bob Hicok Poems

1. Translator's Note 1/23/2012
2. The pregnancy of words 7/27/2018
3. A well-stocked pantry 7/27/2018
4. Go Greyhound 7/27/2018
5. Poem ending with a murder/suicide 7/27/2018
6. The Big Book of Therapy 7/27/2018
7. My Most Recent Position Paper 7/27/2018
8. Happy first anniversary (in anticipation of your thirty ninth) 7/27/2018
9. Epithalamium 7/27/2018
10. In Michael Robins's class minus one 7/27/2018
11. The Smiths, As I Understand Them 3/8/2012
12. Toward Accuracy 1/23/2012
13. Unmediated Experience 1/23/2012
14. Happy First Anniversary (In Anticipation Of Your Thirty Ninth) 3/14/2014
15. The Semantics Of Flowers On Memorial Day 1/23/2012
16. Epithalamium 1/23/2012
17. Duke 1/23/2012
18. For Three Whose Reflex Was Yes 1/23/2012
19. In Michael Robins’s Class Minus One 1/23/2012
20. Report From The Black Box 1/23/2012
21. Feeling The Draft 1/23/2012
22. A Shopkeeper’s Story 1/23/2012
23. Man Of The House 1/23/2012
24. A Private Public Space 1/23/2012
25. Dropping The Euphemism 1/23/2012
26. After Working Sixty Hours Again For What Reason 1/23/2012
27. In The Loop 1/23/2012
28. Full Flight 1/23/2012
29. O My Pa-Pa 1/23/2012
30. Learning To Swim 1/23/2012
31. Mortal Shower 1/23/2012
32. Prodigal 1/23/2012
33. Go Greyhound 1/23/2012
34. Her My Body 1/23/2012
35. An Old Story 1/23/2012
36. What Would Freud Say? 1/13/2003
37. Calling Him Back From Layoff 1/23/2012
38. The Maple 1/1/2004
39. Another Awkward Stage Of Convalescence 1/13/2003
40. Sudden Movements 1/13/2003

Comments about Bob Hicok

  • Deanne Hart (7/11/2013 9:13:00 AM)

    Just discovered Bob Hicok in recent New Yorker. Varieties of Cool. all about grapes, and a friend with a cough that became an acronym. Great stuff.

    4 person liked.
    7 person did not like.
Best Poem of Bob Hicok

By Their Works

Who cleaned up the Last Supper?
These would be my people.
Maybe hung over, wanting
desperately a better job,
standing with rags
in hand as the window
beckons with hills
of yellow grass. In Da Vinci,
the blue robed apostle
gesturing at Christ
is saying, give Him the check.
What a mess they've made
of their faith. My God
would put a busboy
on earth to roam
among the waiters
and remind them to share
their tips. The woman
who finished one
half eaten olive
and scooped the rest
into her pockets,
walked her tiny pride ...

Read the full of By Their Works

The pregnancy of words

Eros scrabbles to rose and rage
to gear or gare, as in Gare du Nord,
where I trained in to Paris from not
smoking pot in Master Mad, I'm sorry,
Amsterdam, with its canals
called grachts and clocks
that bonged my homesick hours
at different times. Which is smite
for you violet types, a flower

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