I often wonder what we would do in a world without the comforts of bed. But then I get tired of thinking about it and roll over to go back to sleep.

There is No Bed

You’ve asked me what the ostrich
From her brain and her arm reflect.
Roses of the earth
respect and honeysuckle – moons of purity.
A airplane is not enough to pacify me and keep me
from the thicket of your electric epiphany.

Pockets of copper converted into cedar
On what nocturnal bells gathered with clay?

 

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