Self-conscious
talking about abuse
I see myself
served by every body
the only oven
Poems on the topic: body
Poems on the topic “body” on Poets.by.
Dead town
Fleet with my word, I talk
bodies out of their graves,
which please me better
than sitting in a dark place, not seeing.
We stand and make the moon take to bed.
The starving artist studies his model
All day looking
at her body, a good ship;
his, a gilded well.
Inspection
alone in the noon heat
I have a look
at my testicle
Object
at noon a piece of meat
at night a mouth
Blazon
To her leg in lace
her rings
her after-play
her heat
her full pear
her lost temple
her art
I see my way.
Resonant
My body gives me joy,
as if I were a swan or a fish.
A song or two
in my chamber in the dark,
now that the bed is out,
sound very well.
Extreme position
My foot came to see my hand
as an impertinent echo,
a gone member, thinking how to stand—
a thing on whom no being went.
Books in the road
books in the dull road like a dish of tripe
a meal of ill conception
books for the clerk
who tells me ill things
for the surgeon at a loss
what to do with her own body
for the bears
The Fall
her stark anatomy
in the garden
I look at the ground
a city ordered to be kept shut
the body’s a thing
of bad colors
Vista
the body of a model
is a safe croft
but the best place could endure
every ordinary survey
and so a dish of larks
after the wasteland
(De)composition
death is a miracle
making in the body (that is not finished)
most rare things
how could it be locked up
between two hopes
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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