Opposable Tongue
Today my tongue could run, though all thumbs, out
Doors of its own making
And talk to plants in their tongue, which can lift weights,
The thumb
Locates a path.
In love with the way the world is turning now,
I go out to catch the changes as they come
My way: Big families of diamonds and spades.
Shifting hinges sing dry numbers
Until the winds die down and sleep awhile
Without gnashing or rapid eye movement.
I don't know how, but the bootless tongue
Goes on anyhow—it may be bad manners—
Opposing the unhappiness it must tell.
I do know this much: sacrifices line the corridor
Reproachfully dictating letters of indebtedness
To civil-service secretaries.
Will I give them my undivided attention?
Not as long as my tongue—
Today the envelopes arrive,
Conveniently equipped with windows
That disclose my name and numbered house and town
But keep them safe from
The hundred-year-old mailman's thumb.
He cuts and shuffles, cuts again and deals.
I take a look piecemeal at my new hand.
Sixes! Sevens!
Today my tongue could run, though all thumbs, out
Doors of its own making
And talk to plants in their tongue, which can lift weights,
The thumb
Locates a path.
In love with the way the world is turning now,
I go out to catch the changes as they come
My way: Big families of diamonds and spades.
Shifting hinges sing dry numbers
Until the winds die down and sleep awhile
Without gnashing or rapid eye movement.
I don't know how, but the bootless tongue
Goes on anyhow—it may be bad manners—
Opposing the unhappiness it must tell.
I do know this much: sacrifices line the corridor
Reproachfully dictating letters of indebtedness
To civil-service secretaries.
Will I give them my undivided attention?
Not as long as my tongue—
Today the envelopes arrive,
Conveniently equipped with windows
That disclose my name and numbered house and town
But keep them safe from
The hundred-year-old mailman's thumb.
He cuts and shuffles, cuts again and deals.
I take a look piecemeal at my new hand.
Sixes! Sevens!
Doors of its own making
And talk to plants in their tongue, which can lift weights,
The thumb
Locates a path.
In love with the way the world is turning now,
I go out to catch the changes as they come
My way: Big families of diamonds and spades.
Shifting hinges sing dry numbers
Until the winds die down and sleep awhile
Without gnashing or rapid eye movement.
I don't know how, but the bootless tongue
Goes on anyhow—it may be bad manners—
Opposing the unhappiness it must tell.
I do know this much: sacrifices line the corridor
Reproachfully dictating letters of indebtedness
To civil-service secretaries.
Will I give them my undivided attention?
Not as long as my tongue—
Today the envelopes arrive,
Conveniently equipped with windows
That disclose my name and numbered house and town
But keep them safe from
The hundred-year-old mailman's thumb.
He cuts and shuffles, cuts again and deals.
I take a look piecemeal at my new hand.
Sixes! Sevens!
Today my tongue could run, though all thumbs, out
Doors of its own making
And talk to plants in their tongue, which can lift weights,
The thumb
Locates a path.
In love with the way the world is turning now,
I go out to catch the changes as they come
My way: Big families of diamonds and spades.
Shifting hinges sing dry numbers
Until the winds die down and sleep awhile
Without gnashing or rapid eye movement.
I don't know how, but the bootless tongue
Goes on anyhow—it may be bad manners—
Opposing the unhappiness it must tell.
I do know this much: sacrifices line the corridor
Reproachfully dictating letters of indebtedness
To civil-service secretaries.
Will I give them my undivided attention?
Not as long as my tongue—
Today the envelopes arrive,
Conveniently equipped with windows
That disclose my name and numbered house and town
But keep them safe from
The hundred-year-old mailman's thumb.
He cuts and shuffles, cuts again and deals.
I take a look piecemeal at my new hand.
Sixes! Sevens!
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