Who is Bob Hicok

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Bob Hicok Poems

  • Another Awkward Stage Of Convalescence
    Drunk, I kissed the moon
    where it stretched on the floor.
    I'd removed happiness from a green bottle,
    both sipped and gulped ...
  • An Old Story
    Itâ??s hard being in love
    with fireflies. I have to do
    all the pots and pans.
    When asked to parties ...
  • Unmediated Experience
    She does this thing. Our seventeen-
    year-old dog. Our mostly deaf dog.
    Our mostly dead dog, statistically
    speaking. When I crouch. ...
  • In The Loop
    I heard from people after the shootings. People
    I knew well or barely or not at all. Largely
    the same message: how horrible it was, how little
    there was to say about how horrible it was. ...
  • Mortal Shower
    I met my butt in a Pittsburgh
    hotel room. My face
    still looks like my face
    but not my butt, my hair ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Bob Hicok

People 10 Body 9 Home 9 Thought 9 Woman 9 I Love You 8 Love 8 Mouth 8 Face 7 River 7


Bob Hicok Quotes

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Comments about Bob Hicok

Ansfavwords: and when i touch you in each of the places we meet in all of the lives we are, it’s with hands that are dying and resurrected. when i don’t touch you it’s a mistake in any life, in each place and forever. bob hicok
Monostich: what is it about poetry/ that it refuses to die/ no matter how often/ tv shoots it in the head? --bob hicok, "poem for the left hand"
Ansfavwords: and when i touch you in each of the places we meet in all of the lives we are, it’s with hands that are dying and resurrected. when i don’t touch you it’s a mistake in any life, in each place and forever. bob hicok
Ansfavwords: and when i touch you in each of the places we meet in all of the lives we are, it’s with hands that are dying and resurrected. when i don’t touch you it’s a mistake in any life, in each place and forever. bob hicok
Hourly_oranges: 'sweet,' bob hicok
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Poem of the day

Edgar Albert Guest Poem
The Killing Place
 by Edgar Albert Guest

We're hiking along at a two-forty pace
We 're making life seem like a man-killing race,
With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
We go rushing along; with our brows lined with sweat
And our cheeks pale and drawn every minute we dash,
And the goal that we 're after is merely more cash.

We 're out for the money, the greenbacks and gold,
...

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