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 ...
What is death, I ask. What is life, you ask. I give them both my buttocks, my two wheels rolling ...
Angels of the love affair, do you know that other,the dark one, that other me?1. ANGEL OF FIRE AND GENITALSAngel ...
Everyone in me is a bird. I am beating all my wings. They wanted to cut you out but they ...
I was thinking of a son. The womb is not a clock nor a bell tolling, but in the eleventh ...
I was tired of being a woman,tired of the spoons and the post,tired of my mouth and my breasts,tired of ...
Loving me with my shoes offmeans loving my long brown legs,sweet dears, as good as spoons;and my feet, those two ...
Somebody who should have been born is gone.Just as the earth puckered its mouth, each bud puffing out from its ...
On the southwest side of Capriwe found a little unknown grottowhere no people were and weentered it completelyand let our ...
There they are drooping over the breakfast plates, angel-like, folding in their sad wing, animal sad, and only the night ...
A thousand doors agowhen I was a lonely kidin a big house with fourgarages and it was summeras long as ...
In my dreamI milked a cow,the terrible udderlike a great rubber lilysweated in my fingersand as I yanked,waiting for the ...
A shoe with legs, a stone dropped from heaven, he does his mournful work alone, he is the old prospector ...
If you danced from midnight to six A.M. who would understand? The runaway boy who chucks it all to live ...
Inside many of us is a small old man who wants to get out. No bigger than a two-year-old whom ...
A woman who loves a woman is forever young. The mentor and the student feed off each other. Many a ...
Watch out for power, for its avalanche can bury you, snow, snow, snow, smothering your mountain. Watch out for hate, ...
Your daisies have come on the day of my divorce: the courtroom a cement box, a gas chamber for the ...
Sing me a thrush, bone. Sing me a nest of cup and pestle. Sing me a sweetbread fr an old ...
Someone lives in a cave eating his toes, I know that much. Someone little lives under a bush pressing an ...
Everything here is yellow and green. Listen to its throat, its earthskin, the bone dry voices of the peepers as ...
I stand before the sea and it rolls and rolls in its green blood saying, "Do not give up one ...
1. Mother, my Mary Gray, once resident of Gloucester and Essex County, a photostat of your will arrived in the ...
Who's she, that one in your arms? She's the one I carried my bones to and built a house that ...
We are America. We are the coffin fillers. We are the grocers of death. We pack them in crates like ...
What is death, I ask. What is life, you ask. I give them both my buttocks, my two wheels rolling ...
A woman who loves a woman is forever young. The mentor and the student feed off each other. Many a ...
In my dream I milked a cow, the terrible udder like a great rubber lily sweated in my fingers and ...
Somebody who should have been born is gone. Just as the earth puckered its mouth, each bud puffing out from ...
There they are drooping over the breakfast plates, angel-like, folding in their sad wing, animal sad, and only the night ...
I have gone out, a possessed witch, haunting the black air, braver at night; dreaming evil, I have done my ...
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