Charles Simic Quote

Eyes Fastened With PinsHow much death works,No one knows what a longDay he puts in. The littleWife always aloneIroning death's laundry.The beautiful daughtersSetting death's supper table.The neighbors playingPinochle in the backyardOr just sitting on the stepsDrinking beer. Death,Meanwhile, in a strangePart of town looking forSomeone with a bad cough,But the address somehow wrong,Even death can't figure it outAmong all the locked doors... And the rain beginning to fall.Long windy night ahead.Death with not even a newspaperTo cover his head, not evenA dime to call the one pining away,Undressing slowly, sleepily,