Eyes Fastened With Pins

How much death works,
No one knows what a long
Day he puts in. The little
Wife always alone
Ironing death's laundry.
The beautiful daughters
Setting death's supper table.
The neighbors playing
Pinochle in the backyard
Or just sitting on the steps
Drinking beer. Death,
Meanwhile, in a strange
Part of town looking for
Someone with a bad cough,
But the address somehow wrong,
Even death can't figure it out
Among all the locked doors...
And the rain beginning to fall.
Long windy night ahead.
Death with not even a newspaper
To cover his head, not even
A dime to call the one pining away,
Undressing slowly, sleepily,
And stretching naked
On death's side of the bed.

by Charles Simic

Other poems of SIMIC (64)

Comments (6)

Everyone should read Charles Simic! Fullstop.
The poem perhaps refers to life; s uncertainties.Who knows when death strikes? Some one very close to death may not have an inkling that death is coming.Like the poet says- - - 'The little wife always alone ironing death's laundry'
Death is part of us on this earth. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
A dime to call the one pining away, Undressing slowly, sleepily, And stretching naked On death's side of the bed.
just simple poetic. every line brings forth a different emotion this is one of the finest works of art i have ever come across.
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