POET JERRY HICKS

JERRY HICKS, HERMOSA BEACH

Bakersfield-native Jerry Hicks reads widely in the greater Los Angeles area, and his poetry has appeared in 46 anthologies, here and abroad. Hicks has co-hosted (with Jim Doane and the Redondo Poets) workshops and poetry readings in South Bay since 1996. He co-hosted, with Olin Tezcatlipoca, "Midnight Special Slam Poetry '96'; and co-directed with Jeni Bate the poetry exposition, "Aloud from the Heart." In 1999, he received the "Excellence in Literary Arts Award" from the Torrance Cultural Arts Council for contributions to the South Bay Author's Coalition. Hicks mentors poets via the Internet, was a frequent contributor to Next Magazine and Poetix. He teaches essay writing at Torrance Adult School and is the author of three poetry books: Even Weeds Have Flowers,Instructions Included, and Stalking Oma's Daughter and other Poems.

Click Here to Contact Jerry Hicks



Dial 900--FOR--L-O-V-E
Turn off the TV,
meet your companion.
Guy's! Girls are
lonely. Call tonight,
talk to girls live!

Guys you have had
attractive and willing
Dial 900--FOR--L-O-V-E
Turn off the TV,
meet your companion.
Guy's! Girls are
lonely. Call tonight,
talk to girls live!
Guys you have had
attractive and willing
fun and romance--
are you ready for love?
Meet your match-
your sweetheart--
the girl of your dreams.
Hey Guys! Your special
love awaits you.
No arguments. No nagging.
You can find your
special someone.
Easy romance. Call Now!

Look No Fur---ther
D'ya ever see a cat
staring at its shit?
D'ya ever wonder
what it sees?

It might
be checking
for undigested
tuna.
br> Or maybe
it wants to know
what hurt
its asshole so
much.

Perhaps a cat
has
insights.

Do you think
it might be
reading its future?

Death Doesn't Dance

Old age starts in the feet.
First toes grow numb,
Then the legs won't dance. The arms weaken--
A voyage to the garden
seems too far.

4-2-5
dance

Essay on Fecundity
Two winters in the recent past
my saw sheared nectarine bare,
not from maliciousness, nor need;
but to bare the sun and spare
the patio mess from rotting seed.

Tree, however, (maybe twenty-five)
refused to surrender leaf and life
stretched new limbs in February.
Pink blossoms in April grew
the sweetest fruit--just six.

This year March found her so fertile
supple branches bent with fruit--
some drooped to sun-walled earth
their unripened seed--
remained hard and bitter-
- ignord even by the
sparrows.
Unpruned, those sun-walled branches will
bloom and bear
bloom and bear
bloom and bear

like ghetto
teenagers.

Piss on Love, Who Needs It?
Before I saw ten and thirty
l-o-v-e were my favorite letters--
of the alphabet.

But somewhere in the shade of sixty l-o-v-e were replaced by
g-i-n--
of the liquor store.

Even Weeds Have Flowers
"We all have difficulty discriminating blue," said the
pundit,
"and do nearly as badly with red.
Green is a completely different matter;
we can differentiate 2347 shades of
green!

"Green is the language of plants.
We hear them with our
eyes. We answer them with
care."

Return to South Bay Poets