Checkmate
Bet for beer, I put
the white king
in the park at night.
Cheerful poems
Cheerful poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
Threesome
I give thanks for love
and lasting kindness
and how much we drink and stink
mouth to mouth,
my wife, a bottle and I.
The Kiss
What is a kiss?
A pair of silk stockings.
A light blue supper.
A pleasant walk.
A fine pain.
The king’s coming.
A good foundation for Latin.
The absence of I.
Soul Food
I eat a dish of mackerel
and a cold heart.
My heart supped with us
and told us to take
three shares apiece,
which was very good.
Birthday of Desire
The birthday of desire.
My wife offered me a true horse
and I had great pleasure in riding:
a house built high with two sticks,
a bonfire of guns.
We go off for the same joy
and return for trouble.
Substitute
The king, holding us
in his arms, laying
down on a chair,
breaks open
and gives us
his sons and countries,
his family, his ceremonies,
his neck and his left leg
like a ham made to do
in lieu of lobster.
Dogged
Uncouth as a spaniel,
I work all afternoon at hope.
Pleasure me.
Let out the cat in my heart.
Æcerbot
We come close to the land, eat
nothing but peas and pork
and boiled beef,
eat with great love,
shit with all imaginable respect
the land
infinite place
rich world.
I see a man almost drowned in joy
give honor to an oak
with a gilded crown.
Ad Man
In a bed of oysters
I am secure as death
and in the arms of a severe knight
I find sure sales,
there being nothing
in any man’s mind
but the pleasure of loss.
Shore Leave
A day bright as silver,
the women in black like boats
swimming in the sea.
On shore, I walk like a captain:
I roll, not able to stand.
Tastes Like Chicken
A great hen, very angry, began
to pull down the dove and the lark,
a pretty dish.
The mouth dropped thirty guns
in a high debate with the sea.
It blew hard. The great fowl’s
mother was put to bed.
Sick
This morning, a whore; this afternoon, music.
I was sick in the evening.
At night, while my lord was at supper, I went
to bed, to bed, to bed.
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