Bob Hicok

Ode to manners

May I help you with your bags? May I give you

a kidney? May I tell mitosis you’re a fan?

May I interest you in trapezing? May I substitute

a purring cat for your electroshock treatment?

May I bring you a glass of falling rain? May I ask you

to breathe into a mason jar, put it on my shelf

and thereafter say good morning to your soul?

May I believe you’re a Mayan temple? May I play

lead Theremin in your orchestra? May I grow roses

in my mouth for you? A forest in my eyes?

May I tell the galaxies you’re coming?

May I hold your hand as you die? Will you

hold my hand as I die? Bless you. Thank you. Please.