Making the Bed (poem)

First, the upper-left (all that was wanting
was love), and the oversized pad is soon snugged
(bounce a quarter on that bastid) smooth, taut

to the bed (you gave me); then (have drugged enough)
the bottom sheet (you gave me, too), spread smooth
to the touch (lingering, your diffident touch):
\
(Yo! and behold [yes, ecce! homini lupus])
this baying blank of our daily bread
(forever wanting what for want of you)

covered now with the two pink blankets
you also gave me (flesh oozed beneath),
and last the patchwork quilt (and the song said,

you get what) which is too small (but was free,
after all)--place the pillows back at the head.
To sleep, now, and perchance (all that was wanting