Windfall
This fallen fruit:
a small heart
full of sickness,
my sandwich’s god.
Poems on the topic: heart
Poems on the topic “heart” on Poets.by.
Xenograft
It is a pig heart I dine with,
sometimes in hell and others
at Mother Rum’s.
Go home and be pretty again,
my left hand.
Retreat
My private bone, my chance heart,
my Walden in a wardrobe, my rose—
all night we lay
in one green bed.
Wage slave
Work is a net
made of ale and cheap hopes,
my heart in a tent.
Wine-dark
Married to a glass
of wine, I hunt trouble,
set my hand to the sea
and the ship, which make
my heart home.
Fat Tuesday
In the heart, only evil—
tomorrow I give up the urge.
Late news is dead news.
A great lay tonight
because of tomorrow.
Martial Artist
I go in secret.
The score I hear is my heart,
is for bell and wind.
Drunk, I defend myself
with a late foot.
Front Gate
Black with ivy,
my heart is a gate,
shut since I found my wife.
I let it go to him
that shall hire my house.
Seeker
I come among the fallen,
loving for advantage.
A cook hunts
a constant heart.
Lice haunt my coat,
me against me.
Soul Food
I eat a dish of mackerel
and a cold heart.
My heart supped with us
and told us to take
three shares apiece,
which was very good.
Dogged
Uncouth as a spaniel,
I work all afternoon at hope.
Pleasure me.
Let out the cat in my heart.
Heart Attack
A great knocking in me
and I am down, I am wood.
Hopes have to be settled on shore,
but the water being almost
at low water, fear is sure.
I urge the surgeon on,
my heart heavy for not hearing my heart.
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