American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Passage · Poetry

Bob Hicok

Like right now,
I want a bright word to come up,
one that invokes loss in a numinous way,
but I’m faced, as is so often the case,
with a need to stop, not because an end
has been reached but because middles
are where we live and have to get done
what we can, which is little, mind you,
though this little keeps me busy
and appreciative of the memory books have
when I drop them for the pages I’ve left open,
how they spread as if to say, “this was
important to you, this idea you can’t recall,”
and this forgetting is a new bracket, holding
I don’t know what I can never say where.

— Bob Hicok, from “A Kind of Elegance to the Attachments,” Linebreak (26 August 2008)

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