Roger Gerald Hicks Poems

They say it
begins at 40.
I dunno.
...

Tombs are houses with provisioned tables
and freshly made beds...

Dad tells me aside they haven't
...

Old, a septuagenarian, my world is closing in- not
so much like being tackled by a bunch of linesman,
but in the sense everything is disappearing.
...

Lucky husband doubtlessly
you take Celia for granted- your right.
But perhaps you haven't inspected her closely-
lately-
...

Life, for the most part, is gastly
unfair because only queens gets sex.

We're overworked and under fed.
...

In 9th grade, I fell in love
with a blond cheerleader,
as she and her girlfriends,
walked to the new Foster's Freeze
...

Red tells friends,
the wolf is trained,
shares food
fresh and warm
...

Pre-dawn light. Bleak, black, rocky shore, aqua-marine
lapped bordering the Corniche on the left.Roaring banshee
screams on high preclude falling canisters with their
ball-bearings and efficient killing explosives five
...

My shiny new refrigerator
has been stressing
changes in house rules.
...

This poem driving along
in his rat-trap eyes a sign
says BED test Monday
thinks perhaps job offer;
...