Hicok, continued

Blogspot is fighting me on the links. Here's the text that was meant to go with the poems now listed as May 4 on Bob Hicok.

As much as we all love romantically sagging butts (May 3), here's another Bob Hicok poem, a satire on one of those targets we all love to hate.

Spirit ditty of no fax-line dial tone by Bob Hicok : The Poetry Foundation [poem] : Find Poems and Poets. Discover Poetry.

However, I don't want to imply that Hicok cannot be serious, even grave and philosophical. So here's one more poem. Following his thought pattern is again something of a quiz, though not a very difficult challenge until, perhaps, the last two stanzas. In addition to their meaning, how do you hear the tone of the final lines?.

The poem is still informed by humor, but now it's also undercut by the gravity of the subject. I think that tension makes "Her my body" the richest of the three Hicok poems posted this week. Love carries the day, as it did two days ago. However, if we see Hicok's gambits as gambles, the stakes are higher in the reckless tossing of insects, drool, dog petting, cancer, and devotion. Does Hicok bring it off, or has he asked too much of himself in terms of controlling his variety of imagery or balancing wit against emotion that's both genuine and deep? The title's wording is a little unconventional, isn't it? What do you make of it?

Her my body by Bob Hicok : The Poetry Foundation [poem] : Find Poems and Poets. Discover Poetry.