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 GENITALSAngel ...
Angels of the love affair, do you know that other,the dark one, that other me?1. ANGEL OF FIRE AND GENITALSAngel ...
1. DREAMSI was an ice baby.I turned to sky blue.My tears became two glass beads.My mouth stiffened into a dumb ...
You always read about it:the plumber with the twelve childrenwho wins the Irish Sweepstakes.From toilets to riches.That story.Or the nursemaid,some ...
Live or die, but don't poison everything… Well, death's been here for a long time — it has a hell ...
I was thinking of a son. The womb is not a clock nor a bell tolling, but in the eleventh ...
A young man is afraid of his demon and puts his handover the demon's mouth sometimes…— D. H. LawrenceI mentioned ...
I am in a crate, the crate that was ours,full of white shirts and salad greens,the icebox knocking at our ...
I am the love killer,I am murdering the music we thought so special,that blazed between us, over and over.I am ...
It is in the small things we see it.The child's first step,as awesome as an earthquake.The first time you rode ...
Who is he?A railroad track toward hell?Breaking like a stick of furniture?The hope that suddenly overflows the cesspool?The love that ...
A born salesman, my father made all his dough by selling wool to Fieldcrest, Woolrich and Faribo. A born talker, ...
1. Mother, my Mary Gray, once resident of Gloucester and Essex County, a photostat of your will arrived in the ...
You said the anger would come back just as the love did. I have a black look I do not ...
My faith is a great weight hung on a small wire, as doth the spider hang her baby on a ...
I dance in circles holding the moth of the marriage, thin, sticky, fluttering its skirts, its webs. The moth oozing ...
Who's she, that one in your arms? She's the one I carried my bones to and built a house that ...
This is the desk I sit at and this is the desk where I love you too much and this ...
My dear, it was a moment to clutch for a moment so that you may believe in it and believing ...
Watch out for power, for its avalanche can bury you, snow, snow, snow, smothering your mountain. Watch out for hate, ...
1. I am thirty this November. You are still small, in your fourth year. We stand watching the yellow leaves ...
"Too many things are occurring for even a big heart to hold." - From an essay by W. B. Yeats ...
A woman who writes feels too much, those trances and portents! As if cycles and children and islands weren't enough; ...
Your daisies have come on the day of my divorce: the courtroom a cement box, a gas chamber for the ...
There can be certain potions needled in the clock for the body's fall from grace, to untorture and to plead ...
Oh, love, why do we argue like this? I am tired of all your pious talk. Also, I am tired ...
Sing me a thrush, bone. Sing me a nest of cup and pestle. Sing me a sweetbread fr an old ...
There was an unwanted child. Aborted by three modern methods she hung on to the womb, hooked onto I building ...
I would like to bury all the hating eyes under the sand somewhere off the North Atlantic and suffocate them ...
1. Old Man Old man, it's four flights up and for what? Your room is hardly bigger than your bed. ...
Under my bowels, yellow with smoke, it waits. Under my eyes, those milk bunnies, it waits. It is waiting. It ...
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