SurVision Magazine / Bob Lucky

The Limits of Geology

When the rock
first smiled at me,
it looked like a smirk.

I'm mistrustful of judgmental people and objects.

I didn't look its way again for days. Then it was laughing.

I trust people and objects with a sense of humor.

I didn't know if I should pocket that rock or skip it
across the surface of a pond. So,
I kicked it in frustration. The next time
I saw it, it was crying.

Tears confuse me,
and I have no idea
how one consoles a rock.

Why Miracles Are Hard to Prove

There are no clouds.

The sky is filled with kite surfers,
sails dipping and rising, crossing back
and forth across the bay.

Windsurfers etch tiny wakes into the water,
and a single sailboat, its sail and hull
a glaring white, glides towards the marina.

In the shade of a café's umbrella,
trying to ignore the conspiratorial whispering
of a vacationing family, I remember
the time I walked on water. I think
I could do it again if I had to.

The Simple Things

My wife is on the balcony pollinating the cucumbers because the bees are few and lazy buzzers. The wind is slapping her in the face with her own hair. We have one hen left. Every morning I put her on the railing and encourage her to spread her wings, but evolution has precluded soaring with the seagulls, and despite having seen us wring her sister's neck and feed feathers to the wind, she hops onto her nest and refuses to lay an egg. That's a lot of courage for a chicken. My wife and I talk of downsizing and simplifying our lives, of finding an apartment with an elevator. Living on the 23rd floor has limited our social life. I can't remember the last time anyone could make it for dinner or drinks. And the stairs are dark.

Bob Lucky is an American poet living in Portugal. He is the author of the full-length collection entitled My Thology: Not Always True But Always Truth (Cyberwit, 2019). He also authored two chapbooks, Ethiopian Time (Red Bird Chapbooks, 2014) and Conversation Starters in a Language No One Speaks (SurVision Books, 2018), which was a winner of the James Tate Poetry Prize.

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An international online magazine that publishes Surrealist poetry in English. Issue Eleven BOB LUCKY The Limits of Geology When the rock first smiled at me, it looked like a smirk. I'm mistrustful of judgmental people and objects. I didn't look its way again for days. Then it was laughing. I trust people and objects with a sense of humor. I didn't know if I should pocket that rock or skip it across the surface of a pond. So, I kicked it in frustration. The next time I saw it, it was crying. Tears confuse me, and I have no idea how one consoles a rock. Why Miracles Are Hard to Prove There are no clouds. The sky is filled with kite surfers, sails dipping and rising, crossing back and forth across the bay. Windsurfers etch tiny wakes into the water, and a single sailboat, its sail and hull a glaring white, glides towards the marina. In the shade of a café's umbrella, trying to ignore the conspiratorial whispering of a vacationing family, I remember the time I walked on water. I think I could do it again if I had to. The Simple Things My wife is on the balcony pollinating the cucumbers because the bees are few and lazy buzzers. The wind is slapping her in the face with her own hair. We have one hen left. Every morning I put her on the railing and encourage her to spread her wings, but evolution has precluded soaring with the seagulls, and despite having seen us wring her sister's neck and feed feathers to the wind, she hops onto her nest and refuses to lay an egg. That's a lot of courage for a chicken. My wife and I talk of downsizing and simplifying our lives, of finding an apartment with an elevator. Living on the 23rd floor has limited our social life. I can't remember the last time anyone could make it for dinner or drinks. And the stairs are dark. Bob Lucky is an American poet living in Portugal. He is the author of the full-length collection entitled My Thology: Not Always True But Always Truth (Cyberwit, 2019). He also authored two chapbooks, Ethiopian Time (Red Bird Chapbooks, 2014) and Conversation Starters in a Language No One Speaks (SurVision Books, 2018), which was a winner of the James Tate Poetry Prize.
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