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              -Charles Baudlaire

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PIKE POETS

H. Edgar Hix

Hix is a Minneapolis poet whose been writing since his youth. He's published more than 300 poems and, after a brief hiatus, is back with three high-wattage poems for you, our Pikers. Enjoy.

 HISTORY
 
i wear my own history like a swallowed overcoat
woolen gray with too many gaudy buttons
and nothing in its pockets but lint
soaking up my digestive juices
leaving me
hungry but over-full
like an old haiku with too many commentators
 
+++++++
 
HOLY JESUS WITH A BOTTLE OF COLD WATER
 
Holy Jesus with a bottle of cold water,
some aspirin, a tuna fish sandwich and the rest
of heaven. I will take cherry ice cream over
a street of gold. All over it, with big spoons for
everyone. Angels in white aprons with menus.
I can order anything I want. You can, too.
All God's children got menus. All God's children got
place mats, coffee cups, silverware in white napkins.
 
Holy Jesus with a bottle of cold heaven.
I'll get everything on the menu and leave great
tips. All God's children leave great tips. Great tips to fill
empty bowls of ice cream. Golden bowls, golden tips
for pink tuna and clean water. Golden tips to
make angels smile. Make Jesus smile. Better than aspirin.
 
+++++++
 
PROUD
 
I have his posters, toys, civies, high school letter,
ten thousand memories of everything of him but
bombs and bullets, comrades and the recently dead.
 
I taught him how to spell, hammer a nail, turn left safely,
even make lasagna and balance a checkbook, all of which
cannot staunch a drop of blood and I cannot see if he is bleeding.
 
He is learning now about his own fears and courage,
whether his/my ideals will bury him, if he will bury them, or if
he will come back having earned the money for his college education.
 
Really, I am a proud father.
Proud brother, having been in arms myself,
proud even knowing, dead or alive, he will never return.