“Lucky us” by Bob Hicok

26 February 2013 on Poetry   Tags:

Best is when one of us wakes and almost
in a dream brings lips to the other, to the mostly
traditional places but so completely saved
from thought, it's as if the night itself
is having sex with us or what swimming
upstream, joining the silver thrash

must be like, not that, of course, not anything
can convey what anything else is, let alone
itself, I guess becoming this liquid
feels like stepping out of a desert
into being rain and not just rain but rain
letting its hair down

Bob Hicok's new book, Elegy Owed, is due out soon from Copper Canyon.

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