Thursday, December 21, 2006

What Started it All


Eyes Fastened With Pins

----------------------by Charles Simic


How much death works,
No one knows what a long
Day he puts in. The little
Wife always alone
Ironing death's laundry.
The beautiful daughters
Setting death's supper table.
The neighbors playing
Pinochle in the backyard
Or just sitting on the steps
Drinking beer. Death,
Meanwhile, in a strange
Part of town looking for
Someone with a bad cough,
But the address somehow wrong,
Even death can't figure it out
Among all the locked doors...
And the rain beginning to fall.
Long windy night ahead.
Death with not even a newspaper
To cover his head, not even
A dime to call the one pining away,
Undressing slowly, sleepily,
And stretching naked
On death's side of the bed.

2 comments:

Brent Goodman said...

I've always loved Charles Simic; he's one of the poets who started it all for me too. Thanks for sharing this lovely piece.

Nick said...

Yup, there's just something about the voice and tenor of this piece that had me hooked from day one!