Patty Seyburn

This morning we are going to test beds.
                                                                      What do you need from a bed?

Some meet your back, fill you in
at the knees, neck, ankles.

Adapt to your indents and excesses.
On your side, they cradle you.

                                                                      At the edge, they keep you
                                                                                                              from falling.
Some yield, and some push back.
Some are unrelenting.

They say: we are good for you.
And pleasure is good, in a different way.

                                                                      Some have continuous
                                                                                                              springs, and some

The former will let you feel

another person get into your bed.
The latter will make you each discrete:

                                                                      you can choose
                                                                                                    or not

to acknowledge
the beloved or at least
the one who lies next to you
each night.


Lie down. Roll around. Stretch. Reach out.
There is now technology inside of

a bed, which used to be
such a simple thing:

                                                                      something soft atop
                                                                                                    something hard.

Before that: just something hard:
a flat stone. Flat dirt. A smaller flat

stone for a pillow.
That's what Jacob used

                                                                      and he slept fine.
                                                                                                    Not really:

he dreamed a great deal.
His dreams felt real.

God and angels invaded his dreams. Made demands.
Mine are parochial. Predictable.

                                                                      Perhaps a new bed would
                                                                                                    solve that.

Perhaps I would dream bigger.
Even, prophetically.

How long should this bed last?
How long will the dreams                     go on?




I am obsessed with biblical Jacob's dreams and sleep habits. They keep me up at night. I am also fond of the midrash that says: "A dream is 1/60th of a prophecy." Insofar as the bedtalk goes: it is difficult to avoid learning things in daily life.