Elegy Owed

By: Bob Hicok

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Synopsis: "Smart, honest, powerfully inventive, [Hicok's] writing asks the biggest questions while acknowledging that there are no answers beyond the imposed structure of the page."-Los Angeles Times"Seamlessly, miraculously, [Hicok's] judicious eye imbues even the dreadful with beauty and meaning."-The New York Times Book ReviewGritty, complicated, and earnest, Elegy Owed breaks-then salvages-the rules for mourning. While poet Bob Hicok remembers the departed as ephemera or skin cells, fog is invited to tea and the beauty of dandelion fluff is held for ransom. Hicok's language is so humid with expectation and fearlessness that his poems create a clandestine manual to survival.From "The Order of Things":Then I stopped hearing from you. Then I thoughtI was Beethoven's cochlear implant. Then I listenedto deafness. Then I tacked a whisperto the bulletin board. Then I liked dandelionsbest in their afro stage. Then a breezeheld their soft beauty for ransom. Then no onethrows a Molotov cocktail betterthan a Buddhist monk...Bob Hicok is one of the most active poets writing today, and his poems have appeared widely, including in The New Yorker and Poetry. His honors include the Bobbitt Prize from the Library of Congress and a "Notable Book of the Year" from Booklist. Hicok has worked as an automotive die designer and a computer system administrator, and is currently an associate professor of English at Virginia Tech. He lives in Blacksburg, Virginia.