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I must kill you, he says.
Of course, I reply.
How shall the work be done,
he wonders.
I don’t know, I say, but
you must be quiet
and the room tidy
when you’re done.
Very well, he reasons,
I’ll kill you
in a story; and when
my words have ended,
your heart will be a coal
in the palm of my hand,
not a scream sounded,
not a cover mussed.
How do we begin, I ask.
Oh, he says, as all stories do —
Once upon a time
there was a little boy.
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About the Author:
Bob Hicok's poetry has appeared in numerous publications including The New Yorker, Paris Review, Poetry, Ploughshares,
The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror annual, and the Best American Poetry anthology. His books include Animal Soul, a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award; Plus Shipping; Bearing Witness; and The Legend of Light, which won the Felix Pollak Prize in Poetry and was an ALA Booklist Notable Book of the Year.
Hicok has been awarded two Pushcart Prizes and an NEA Fellowship. He currently lives in Virginia, where he teaches creative writing at Virginia Tech in Blacksburg.
"Bedtime Story" copyright © 2001 by Bob Hicok. The poem first appeared in The Missouri Review, Volume 22, #1 and may not be reproduced in any form without the author's express written permission.
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