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In the Suburbs
There's no way out.
You were born to waste your life.
You were born to this middleclass life
As others before you
Were born to walk in procession
To the temple, singing.
Poems on the topic: temple
Poems on the topic “temple” on Poets.by.
Temple in a storm
rain on the temple trees
like words in the book of a blind beggar
the outhouse
which made me almost sick
shivered from top to bottom
with the outside thunder
Professional skeptic
I take great pleasure in doubt
never prince was happier than I
who bled out of my own temple
an ox making my home by the sea
Doctrine of signatures
ink is the first
forced temple
I sign and seal an agreement
nothing is as personal as handwriting
I make the state a copy
with great seeming art
The invention of heaven
Ice all about.
In the temple, I found Chance
drawn like a home.
Proverbial (7)
Ask me the time and I point to the sun.
An oak is a fine scholar of the ear.
Comfort took me to the temple Ease.
Daughter
My mother
buried her child
that she brought
to the temple
and there
I find myself,
though I am
wholly glass.
Palm Tree
The palm is
a navy of
the afternoon,
a sign from Holland,
a temple
to a hen.
Visions
I see a king’s codpiece
on all the money
see a temple
in demands we deny the present
the Pope coming to mind
like a fat moth
Hanging jack
My lute an office
where I expect to walk.
I found a stone in mourning
for the temple.
Bread and butter were discoursing
of the great eater.
I remember a hanging jack
to roast birds—that heat.
I played a while on my lute
and could not kill anything.
(note to self)
don’t be so eager to find yourself
the deer rolls her eye in panic
at your approach
birds take flight
the rabbit’s pelt quivers
consider the possibility
that they’re right about you
those whom we trust to predict earthquakes
stop trying to dot your i’s
broken columns
from a Greek temple
where no one now remembers
the name of the god
* * *
I am young with the body of an old temple
The fact that you could not break me down
Is what scared you away.
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