The word was good in bed

Wendy Spacek - wspace@saic.edu

The word was good in bed

To be horizontal
is to be as comfortable
as birds drifting through up
drafts.

Or a soft,
soft river
in its river bed.

I have done things
I do not like
and so do them
no further.

What is time
and how ever will I find
the time
to fill it.

I collect this house
and then collect within it,
domestic miracles.

Onions that grow in a bowl with no water.

I communicate to them,
a higher form of language.
One coming from the corner of the mouth.
The crease of the lip.


Ten bright oranges sat
near a small amount of black.

Clementines swoon on the windowsill.

I grow from woman to infant
then divide.

See how this work in beauty
with glass.

Wet distances.
Tears and wormholes.