like blood in the body
I have no real birthday
I see light go through the street
and dance as all men do
a wild life is whole
and wells up
like a Lent fling
abominable and rich
to dine well is to live
I will be fit as an urn
feet know how
to love the land
hands having a way to be rich
turn to design
I discover a cod’s head
in my manuscript
I was the same plain man
with a king’s head
ordinary as meat
at a cook’s house
but my lady would not suffer me to go
into the garden
in her hand one orange
for my feast
the office is a reproach
that I block out
so different at a distance
like a laugh in the night
who as ambassadors
will not have a treaty with time
be it one day only
in a closet of pleasant talk
the wine cellar
where we do business
the pit where we kiss
like people of ice
the officers of hope
sleep sitting up
understand one another with ease
after five or six glasses of wine
take a little crying
above all mirth
and in the presence of the young
play at playing
proud of my pretty hands
I play a wise man
give husband to wife
with my two copies of a book
soldiers
make way for a swan
that high rattle
all go by water
talk to the water
desire to get in water
a dress of ten thousand hands
the water received the water
and they made a great deal of joy
this day I left my harp
for a city of herring
The sea, to our great
wonder, is a well.
Captain, tell me stories
of cards playing cards,
money that lost money,
greed made a creed.
O talk high of France
for a fine country,
the tavern for a parliament
staid in talk.
My mother’s cursing
and swearing take
possession of the heads
in the hall.
The dog and I play
at theater, dancing,
hungry for want of dinner.