Bob Hicok

This collection works because it dwells on human experience and because at its best the language is charged with unforgettably lyrical wisdom.

The daily newspaper, the homeless man who lives under the bridge, or the woman we glimpse in the rearview mirror - each encounter is commonplace, but wonderfully transformed by the clean, visceral energy of Bob Hicok's The Legend of Light. Whether he is considering the reflection of human faces in the Vietnam War Memorial or the elements of a "Modern Prototype" factory, Hicok prompts an icy realization that we may have never seen the world as it truly is. But his resilient voice and consistent perspective, neither blaming nor didactic, are ultimately enlightening. From the shadowed corners into which we dare not look clearly, Hicok makes us witness and hero of The Legend of Light.

Takes on love and its consequences, in which "everything is allowed, minus forever." Hus musings on age, distance, imagined intimacies, real marriage, secret messages, and of course, sex and love and death pivot lithely from witty confessions to blunt confrontations, from the awkwardnesses of youthful desire to the sustained intoxication of mature love and companionship.

Pilgrimage -- Elegy with lies -- The days are getting longer -- O -- The story of 5:33 -- Knockturn -- Good-bye, topspin -- Elegy to hunger -- Coming to life -- Ode to magic -- Pre-planning -- L ah g -- Sound scape -- You name this one -- A request -- One of those things we say -- Making do -- The gift -- Listen -- A country mapped with invisible ink -- Elegy to unnamed sources -- The missing -- Some recent weather -- Born again -- Scarecrow overhears himself thinking -- Elegy's -- Desire -- Take care -- Obituary for the middle class -- Song of the recital -- Leave a message -- Blue prints -- What the great apes refer to as a philosophy of life -- The order of things -- How we came to live where we live -- The heart of the soul of the gist of the matter -- To speak somewhat figuratively for S. -- Absence makes the heart. That's it: absence makes the heart -- A very small bible -- Notes for a time capsule -- Another holiday has come and gone -- Ink -- Shed and dream -- You can never step into the same not going home again twice -- A poem that wanted to be a letter but didn't know how -- Owe is to ode as whatever is to I don't know -- Ode to ongoing -- Elegy to the time it takes to realize the futility of elegies -- Love -- Elegy ode -- Confessions of a nature lover -- Circles in the sky -- Something like an oath -- Elegy owed -- Missing -- As I was saying -- Speaking American -- Moving day -- Excerpts from mourning -- Life -- Sunny, infinite chance of rain -- In lieu of building a crib -- Equine aubade -- I tell myself the future -- Good-bye.

Find the strongest man there. Give yourself to him in return for protection. It’s the only way you’ll ever survive. Convicted of a minor crime, Riana is sentenced to a prison planet—a dark primitive hold filled with convicts vying for power. Her only chance of survival is with Cain, a mysterious loner who has won his territory in the prison through intelligence and brute strength. Sex is all she has to offer, so she uses it. She’s under no delusions here. No one is ever released, and no one ever escapes. Survival is all she can hope for—until Cain. An earlier version of this book was published under the same title and a different penname by Ellora’s Cave. It has since been substantially revised and expanded.