The floating world
We sat with
our hats and
our paying hips,
our glad work
that will please
poor seamen,
glad we sat in
bed in strange
weather—all
this winter,
dust and flies
and rose-
bushes full
of leaves.
Poèmes sur le thème : bed
Poèmes sur le thème « bed » sur Poets.by.
Warmonger
In bed, the war and I
agree to wed—
a different drink for my wick.
I gain entertainment, a trench,
and some talk of head fanatic,
no honor—a hat
pulled down.
Pas de deux
We dance
on one leg
and dine together on a tongue.
Who is going to lay up
a box of rich things?
Who is enlarging his horse?
We walk
on glass stairs
to sudden fortune or to love
and make the best stories,
the most pleasant stories—
how on such
a night as this
she and I found some trivial business
and took occasion
to go to bed.
Broom
A girl took a broom to bed—
he looked like a fine gentleman.
His gold, old flower was a garden
where there had been many rains.
Queen-sized
Ribs under other people’s hands,
we could not dress ourselves,
queen that we were.
The king? With him
we could hardly get any
sleep, he being a bad bed.
Exegesis
morning ford—
as you read the water
so read the bed
Homeless man in the news
morning paper—
my afternoon bed
covers me
Stille Nacht
Christmas tomorrow
the old light of a star
on the bed
Abed
lying in bed
with my wife—
winter afternoon
Sailor’s wife
A long word: wait.
I understand water
but not ships
or the poor body,
having it in mind to sail
my own bed.
Slack
long in bed with
my fool self—
a bottle falling out
Church of sloth
A simple church:
men in hats blessing
without waking.
I bury my pen
and pray to Bed.