Weighty (sigh) matters
the desire to go on and on
Weighty (sigh) matters
by Bob Hicok
My favorite cloud ever looked like Lincoln picking his nose, said one blade of grass to another. Whitman wrote a whole book about us, said one American to another. There’s a lot of chatter in this poem so far but not enough wrestling with the concept of the soul. But is it a concept or a paperweight, and does something of our lives persist, other than the desire to go on and on wondering why we’re here, and where is the emergency apple pie, since these questions can’t possibly be answered on an empty stomach.
Bob does it again, and this time with pie! Apple pie which actually has an order, if you listen to John Ashbery who sometimes reminds me of Bob or I should say Bob occasionally reminds me of John only completely different, but still that desire to go on and on is happening.
Bob is so sly with enjambment.