Career day

Bob Hicok

Were I a stenographer,

I’d write down everything

rain says. A camper, I’d set up a tent

in the Rothko room at the Phillips.

A heroin addict, I’d live in the ‘90s.

Jesus, I’d change it

to The Last Brunch. Quiche Lorraine,

mimosas. I’d not take

a police psychologist’s job

for anything in the world, other than

the world. And why do we say,

Shot his brains out,

when there’s just the one? Were I a priest,

I’d only do straight weddings

and gay weddings together, couples lined up

down the aisle and around the block.

Let there be happiness and love

in bulk. Were I a star, I’d shine

binary. Were I smart,

I’d have been Jane Goodall

and kept my mouth shut. Why tell humans

apes are great when humans

are terrible at leaving apes

and well enough alone. But I am

dust, and as such,

I’ll eat an apple

and be happy to give my shovel

a treasure map and beg the two of them

to dig the world. Were I a pun, hon,

I wouldn’t be that one. Were I the Big Bang,

I’d whisper in the ears of flowers,

Take your time, this was all for you.


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