Under The Bed, I Head

Hiding under the bed

Friends gather dust

As they listen

To the intimate dead

Holding on close

To the years of desire

Passing by


Knots and cotton buds

Dangle from arms

As they squirm

In the detritus of sin

Disturbed not for aeons


Something cats drag in

Wrung out to dry

Bone against bone

Pulverised into ash

Gathering dust bunnies in May

Come late December

Off they go

Goodbye to all

Friends and rubbish swept out the door


In space

Under the bed

Monsters move in

Celebrate New Year

With balloons and whistles and hope from a tin


Over months

Fresh dust covers them all

They lose their allure

No longer a novel akin

Preparations are made

For a new broom to sweep

And as much as they weep


A vacuum cleaner brings in

Brand spanking new

Hoovers and chews

Monsters to bits


In the space desire

Spent under/over the bed

Occupants are better dead, maybe

When all is done/ said

Cleanliness makes changes

We cannot defend


And what good is a friend

If not stashed in your head

Listening from under the bed

To all that is said






Copyright November 2013











2 thoughts on “Under The Bed, I Head

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