Busker
This instrument
like a fat foot with no bone
tells me to fit myself for bed,
tells a beggar to meddle
or make wit.
Poems on the topic: bed
Poems on the topic “bed” on Poets.by.
Lycanthrope
A bed in
my mind,
a hat on the house:
I fear a good sleep.
It goes to take
possession and
to sup.
Dosage
In bed, swelling,
I measure a little fear,
observe exactly
the custom of
the mind at night.
Bed music
My wife and I in bed
fell into a music,
rose singing to rose,
and all day in the office
I can hardly bring myself to eat
a bit of bread.
Interment
For the burial
of an anchor,
let the water eat
as much as a bed
full of trouble.
Spiritual teacher
In my chest, a thin rain.
In the disco, the young ladies bought me,
light for night.
I found my Zen
useful in bed.
Beach bum
A seal came
for the oysters—
a good, broad bed—
and stayed
to stir sand.
Insomniac (2)
At war with the bed
and the scenes and company and everything
else in my mind, I count to one.
Here: be nothing
but the farce.
Food lovers
This is
the way
to my lady’s bed:
a pasty full
of fat, the moon
in my hands.
Dreamtime
Clock by clock, a strange time
called me out of the world.
I live in a sufficiency of parts:
old hands, ear,
heart as cheerful as a bed.
The good worker
Me and the office: one
wen.
A pasty.
A merry bed.
Carnival-goer
In the heat and the throng,
the call of stupefaction.
For hours we were out.
I endeavored to move, but not now
that I am in bed.
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