Am meisten gelesen ▸
Dave Bonta
my heart’s every heave
a sad noise to hear
at night in bed
in order to understand
I go under and under and under
I go in one ear
and out the other
I go with the tide
home to bed
I am here to wait
which may teach me how
I make others wait
present in absence
as a body brought to be buried
several carrying it
in some little bed
up in the all-
day night
the upper-
weary bed
in my wife’s painting
something of midnight
a bed is a ship
being taken round
to the north
times I find my head
I come to be more supple
at noon doing midnight
and the bed as fallen as me
my heart is a beautiful fat woman in childbed
and I am the bed
I increase in any place
where I want to live all in one place
I hear so much by chance
a fat plum of a bark
a passionate vapor
and one who with ash and dagger
has moved in under my bed
my office is in the ear
with any midnight voice
oiled and drunk
trouble sings
in a melancholy method
and the one bed is for her
on the only step
an owl
night comes to me
because I am late to her bed
having left my talk
I hear you who I am
newly present to
the plain life
of your heart is to me
as large as the weather
where we go together
to bed and so
to sleep
how is the world
and what and where
these days
gone without going
found and not finding
me in my unbed