Anxious poems

Anxious poems — a collection of the best works on Poemship.

AnxiousDave Bonta

Grand jury

at the committee on crime all the raw heads discharging one word into a box
AnxiousDave Bonta

Tar nation

in the middle of an argument kindness is fatal to keeping the enemy an enemy my friends think I am an old hen dancing without a head between hope and fear what will become of us running on other men’s ruin
AnxiousDave Bonta

Sinner

again to howl rage and desire that happen in secret some touch of absence or strange act that would never have been but that I insist upon a fall for in the pit I met my brother owl
AnxiousDave Bonta

Adversarial

who died this morning who broke who was unready I walked up and down above and below the questions answered me how lewdly they talk and how poor a pit is the belly
AnxiousDave Bonta

Dilettante

as a kite I could be impertinent to the weight of numbers the weight of cellars where night is spoiling I fear the atelier if we must have hands
AnxiousDave Bonta

Standard issues

this day of the sword I look after my knives having not a penny to pay the sea like an ungrateful lover near poverty who is scornful about playing a bad hand
AnxiousDave Bonta

Men in cloaks

undressed by order of the crow people an ill usage of land they neither heard nor saw their sick kissing unmissing the plague
AnxiousDave Bonta

King of clubs

how great and sudden is a chance hand sitting in the sea a king may lose his office lose his own head to the state of play
AnxiousDave Bonta

Pastoral Symphony

the flutter of a violin over the fields what secret armies come quietly here where it storms
AnxiousDave Bonta

Citizen, lunatic

tired of the war lies growing every day I am given to unquiet like the sea and wonder at the deadened glory of a moon which I shall not think safe out of my sight
AnxiousDave Bonta

Origins of horror

a new home below the present one wants the world that they love least like nature gone to iron and money in the damp cellar long things grew little fingers that must be rubbed with blood and would not eat and cried to be a doll
AnxiousDave Bonta

Homeland security

in some safe country I am poor for want of disorder: loose paper mad eyes frequent attempts to pray

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