Song of the Good Body
       

Dawn-sick rose-sick word-sick worm-round,
The good body knows to float down
To the tire-smoke roads to the chain-sing scene
Of work, work, his darling, his lust and his leaning,
And steep in the green-shock of screens and un-screened
Calls, of all day screen-green call girls.

0 but toward home soft clover bristles,
Near sizzles with motion, and what's cordial,
Immortal jiggles below it and through
And through the raw fellow of the good body.

And he comes down the walk, warm,
Down, down the walk, and sings to Emily,
Sings I am the angleworm, I am the dew,

I am the bird-shine, the caw,
The step-aside robin that eats the fellow raw.

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Copyright © 2017 Jeffrey Bean All rights reserved
from Woman Putting On Pearls
Red Mountain Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission