BEDS [Beds. Trunk beds in cabins]

Beds. Trunk beds in cabins
and in trees, narrow
holsters, beds of thorns,
palatial subterranean
nests, root cellar and potato cellars. Coal bins
and holes. Beds stuffed with horsehair
or money or little hurts—
Day beds for fainting on and sipping a vial of his song.
Chamber for affairs—brief ones—
where you list the attributes of the betrayer
while unbuttoning his shirt.
Nursery beds with forepaws,
and tailored extremities,
hybrid creatures,
high above the planet,
floating altars
in the fog bow arbor
we used to call the soul—
Hospital beds and prison cots. Place to make lists
and renounce common courtesies,
to plot the holy of holies.
Scratch beds. Elemental
beds. Beds for torture.
For hard labor. For repose.
Blue and green beds.
Where the bulbs rest.
Where he slept after
a long day at the track.
Catherine Bowman


Catherine Bowman

Floating Wolf Quarterly Cover_wolf