Today's poem is by Bob Hicok


Then one day we were putting silver back
into the mine. Then Frank
got tired of his dishwasher
and that went into the mine.
Then Helen got tired of Frank
and deep to the earth in a covening
she carried him and we all to Frank
said seeya. The last of us
paved it over with a small chunk
of Quebec and now we graze
right beside the cows though not
with so much swoon and sway
to our hips. That'll take a while,
scientists tell us, the relax.
I love the lab lads and lasses.
So very white coat, their parties,
so very beaker. Think of your head,
she told us, the head white coat,
as the Earth. So many holes
in your head, so much ouch. "Less
ouch" became our slogan,
we were tired of shouting "Hooray
the calisthenics" and who remembered
where that came from. You go a while
doing X and soon. X is just what you do.
Dig. That's what we did. Dig
and go into the Earth with suns
on our heads that convinced us
we were the flickering shapes
that had no faces we'd ever met.
Imagine not having a face. Who knew
grass existed. And this—what do you call it,
fresh air?—I mean, all day
my burning lungs, my resurrected skin
thinking wow.

Copyright © 2008 Bob Hicok All rights reserved
from Gulf Coast
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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