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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Under The Bed, I Head

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s