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

Ernest Dowson Poem
The Sea-Change
 by Ernest Dowson

Where river and ocean meet in a great tempestuous
frown,
Beyond the bar, where on the dunes the white-
capped rollers break;
Above, one windmill stands forlorn on the arid,
grassy down:
I will set my sail on a stormy day and cross the
bar and seek
...

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