Treasure Island

Is It Poetry

(1958 - / Bus-Boys And Poets, Washington D.C.)

Drop Dead a Bed

Dear Dead Bed,

How do you cover my quilt on bony racks of ribs
your pears are green with molded cheese
between your teeth.
Living life as large such nails when pink did nip
the bottom of your well of chocolate treats.
Almond was the color of a dare in past gone life
when head board clutched your hair and lets
not go.
Bones in hand the ring long slid a boarded cubbard
planked across forever wide divide I'm eighty nine
goosed there come here for more.
Legs quite knobbed veins are sliced from after life
the river parts the running fawn flees from tangled
trees in forest parts.
Drawers in life kept all apart the wafting of the ovened
rymed that part cannot I say dismay you crazed.
Let me take this cracked ole bed we knew so well
that lies in ruins castled seeps a moated motalted
float you drank that day.

Submitted: Friday, February 27, 2009
Edited: Monday, April 20, 2009
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