Iron Bedstead

Poesy plus Polemics

Antique Cast Iron Bedstead
Photo from ebay.com

no rest for the crazy
compelled to bide runaway
days in beds black as obsidian

heaving itself through
wrought curlicue shadows
it races through channels
that penetrate nights
soundless restless and
reckless its feet melt
in puddles of madness
while porcelain finials
spin with the heat
of an inhuman speed
the whole hurtling mass
on burn-to-ash course
with its conscious cadaver
to charnels no soul
ever chose or survived

no rest for the crazy
compelled to ride runaway
sleep into nightly oblivion

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