Pockets by Howard NemerovAre generally over or aroundErogenous zones, they seem to diveIn the direction of thoseDark places, and indeedIt is their nature to be darkThemselves, keeping a kindOf thieves' kitchen for the thingsSequestered from the worldFor long or little while,The keys, the handkerchiefs,The sad and vagrant little coinsThat are really only passing through.For all they locate close to lust,No pocket ever sees another;There is in fact a certain sadnessTo pockets, going in their lonesome waysAnd snuffling up their sifting stormsOf dust, tobacco bits and lint.A pocket with a hole in itDrops out; from shame, is that, or pride?What is a pocket but a hole?
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Pockets
by Howard Nemerov
Are generally over or around
Erogenous zones, they seem to dive
In the direction of those
Dark places, and indeed
It is their nature to be dark
Themselves, keeping a kind
Of thieves' kitchen for the things
Sequestered from the world
For long or little while,
The keys, the handkerchiefs,
The sad and vagrant little coins
That are really only passing through.
For all they locate close to lust,
No pocket ever sees another;
There is in fact a certain sadness
To pockets, going in their lonesome ways
And snuffling up their sifting storms
Of dust, tobacco bits and lint.
A pocket with a hole in it
Drops out; from shame, is that, or pride?
What is a pocket but a hole?
Post a Comment