Self-medication
keeping my body in a bottle
to take and talk to
I drink myself warm
I think myself a very pleasant present
Poems on the topic: body
Poems on the topic “body” on Poets.by.
Isolationist
to live like a lock
exact and satisfied
so fine a contrivance
in such a grotto
but then to have
no light dancing on the sea
and the sea rocking at a distance
in every body
Patient
toothache
on a clear afternoon
seeing how much
is out of my power
my patient body being
a great ape
Revision
in the morning a new draft
of the lines in the body
I study hard to understand it
but desire brings many hands
and more than I expected
the letters feast or fast
Alternate histories
we might have grown
white and thin as rope
over and over the ground
and had other bodies
a secret to be hid
but not under the house
not in the light of
a would-be moon
ships of ice
guns without bullet to grieve
Golden years
the first cherries off the tree
gather in the green water
I am resolved to understand
my old body
the eyes that corrupt me yet
and the way I serve my stomach
eating a dinner of wind
for an empty urn
Self-destructive
what what artifice
taking the moment unobserved
the hand has wherewithal
to kill the whole body
two horses for now and yesterday
were foretold
to unthank tomorrow
and dispose of all next week
Art critic
I am a dog who got hold of art
and worried it
I dispute the value
of pieces rated as great
the ridiculous design of work
in a committee
we who now dissect bodies
and call that art
a man never yet with child
boys desiring a pig
Decline and fall
I wonder at the whole
design of ruin
evening is the same
but more portable
like a quiet pleasure
enlightening the body
Concurrence
the honest body is wiser
than any word
a presence without any reply
but the world
no novice to concurrence
it gives great content
and I am glad to be so
having done all my lying
Gimpy
high wind—
walking backwards along the street
my poor leg
Capital punishment
we go to see a man
hanged for robbery
I touch the dead body
with my bare hand
cold as silk
sleek as a seed
and I hear the fuddled
impossibility of a heart
the teeth that will never now
fall out
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