Anne Sexton Poems on Dogs (34 Poems)

Hurry Up Please It’s Time (Anne Sexton Poems)

What is death, I ask. What is life, you ask. I give them both my buttocks, my two wheels rolling off toward Nirvana. They are neat as a wallet, opening and closing on their coins, the quarters, the nickels, straight … Continue reading →

Red Riding Hood (Anne Sexton Poems)

Many are the deceivers: The suburban matron, proper in the supermarket, list in hand so she won’t suddenly fly, buying her Duz and Chuck Wagon dog food, meanwhile ascending from earth, letting her stomach fill up with helium, letting her … Continue reading →

Angels Of The Love Affair (Anne Sexton Poems)

Angels of the love affair, do you know that other,the dark one, that other me? 1. ANGEL OF FIRE AND GENITALS Angel of fire and genitals, do you know slime,that green mama who first forced me to sing,who put me … Continue reading →

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (Anne Sexton Poems)

No matter what life you leadthe virgin is a lovely number:cheeks as fragile as cigarette paper,arms and legs made of Limoges,lips like Vin Du Rh?ne,rolling her china-blue doll eyesopen and shut.Open to say, Good Day Mama,and shut for the thrustof … Continue reading →

Briar Rose (Sleeping Beauty) (Anne Sexton Poems)

Considera girl who keeps slipping off,arms limp as old carrots,into the hypnotist’s trance,into a spirit worldspeaking with the gift of tongues.She is stuck in the time machine,suddenly two years old sucking her thumb,as inward as a snail,learning to talk again.She’s … Continue reading →

The Death Baby (Anne Sexton Poems)

1. DREAMS I was an ice baby.I turned to sky blue.My tears became two glass beads.My mouth stiffened into a dumb howl.They say it was a dreambut I remember that hardening. My sister at sixdreamt nightly of my death:“The baby … Continue reading →

The House (Anne Sexton Poems)

In dreams the same bad dream goes on. Like some gigantic German toy the house has been rebuilt upon its kelly-green lawn. The same dreadful set, the same family of orange and pink faces carved and dressed up like puppets … Continue reading →

For the Year of the Insane (Anne Sexton Poems)

a prayer O Mary, fragile mother, hear me, hear me now although I do not know your words. The black rosary with its silver Christ lies unblessed in my hand for I am the unbeliever. Each bead is round and … Continue reading →

Love Letter Written In A Burning Building (Anne Sexton Poems)

I am in a crate, the crate that was ours,full of white shirts and salad greens,the icebox knocking at our delectable knocks,and I wore movies in my eyes,and you wore eggs in your tunnel,and we played sheets, sheets, sheetsall day, … Continue reading →

The Touch (Anne Sexton Poems)

For months my hand was sealed off in a tin box. Nothing was there but the subway railings. Perhaps it is bruised, I thought, and that is why they have locked it up. You could tell time by this, I … Continue reading →