My heart/ is whatever temperature a heart is/ in a man who doesn't believe in heaven. — Bob Hicok Copy Share Image
“I like the idea of different theres and elsewheres, an Idaho known for bluegrass, a Bronx where people talk like violets smell. Perhaps I… — bob hicok Copy Share Image
The dead have no ears, no answering machines that we know of, still we call. — Bob Hicok Copy Share Image
“In other languages, you are beautiful- mort, muerto- I wish I spoke moon, I wish the bottom of the ocean were sitting in that chair playing cards and noticing how famous you are on my cell phone- picture of your eyes guarding your nose and the fire you set by walking, picture of dawn getting up early to enthrall your… — Bob Hicok Copy Share
“Making it in poetry The young teller at the credit union asked why so many small checks from universities? Because I write poems I… — Bob Hicok Copy Share Image
“You might think and be so marvelously right about praise that you open your door one day and the day walks in and stays… — Bob Hicok Copy Share Image
Here, when I say I never want to be without you, somewhere else I am saying I never want to be without you again.… — Bob Hicok Copy Share Image
I will beg, will take to my knees, will listen to snow stroking air, a sky of gasps, will open my mouth, swallow, somewhere… — Bob Hicok Copy Share Image
“When I don’t touch you it’s a mistake in any life, in each place and forever.” — Bob Hicok Copy Share Image
