Sliders - Writing.Com

on the wall

When I am pinned and wriggling

sprawling on a pin

with coffee spoons

I have measured out my life

In a minute there is time

Disturb the universe?

but asserted by a simple pin

rich and modest

My necktie

firmly to the chin

my collar mounting

My morning coat

“How his hair is growing thin!”

in the middle of my hair —

With a bald spot

descend the stair

“Do I dare?”

taking of a toast and tea.

visions and revisions

indecisions

drop a question on your plate

all the works and days of hands

to murder and create

To prepare a face to meet the faces

Rubbing its back upon the window-pane

that slides along the street

the yellow smoke

And indeed there will be time

and fell asleep.

Curled once about the house

a soft October night

the soot that falls from chimneys

Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains

into the corners of the evening

Licked its tongue

upon the window-panes

that rubs its back

The yellow fog

Talking of Michelangelo

Let us go and make our visit

Of insidious intent

a tedious argument

with oyster-shells

sawdust restaurants

half-deserted streets

patient etherized upon a table

spread out against the sky

Let us go then