The Play (Anne Sexton Poems)
I am the only actor. It is difficult for one woman to act out a whole play. The play is ...
Anne Sexton Poems on God (45 Poems)
The Ambition Bird (Anne Sexton Poems)
So it has come to this insomnia at 3:15 A.M., the clock tolling its engine like a frog following a ...
The Fury Of Sunrises (Anne Sexton Poems)
Darkness as black as your eyelid, poketricks of stars, the yellow mouth, the smell of a stranger, dawn coming up, ...
The Children (Anne Sexton Poems)
The children are all crying in their pens and the surf carries their cries away. They are old men who ...
The Earth Falls Down (Anne Sexton Poems)
If I could blame it all on the weather, the snow like the cadaver's table, the trees turned into knitting ...
The Starry Night (Anne Sexton Poems)
That does not keep me from having a terrible need of -- shall I say the word -- religion. Then ...
Briar Rose (Sleeping Beauty) (Anne Sexton Poems)
Consider a girl who keeps slipping off, arms limp as old carrots, into the hypnotist's trance, into a spirit world ...
Young (Anne Sexton Poems)
A thousand doors ago when I was a lonely kid in a big house with four garages and it was ...
All My Pretty Ones (Anne Sexton Poems)
Father, this year's jinx rides us apart where you followed our mother to her cold slumber; a second shock boiling ...
My Friend, My Friend (Anne Sexton Poems)
Who will forgive me for the things I do? With no special legend of God to refer to, With my ...
When Man Enters Woman (Anne Sexton Poems)
When man, enters woman, like the surf biting the shore, again and again, and the woman opens her mouth with ...
Live (Anne Sexton Poems)
Live or die, but don't poison everything... Well, death's been here for a long time -- it has a hell ...
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 ...
Clothes (Anne Sexton Poems)
Put on a clean shirt before you die, some Russian said. Nothing with drool, please, no egg spots, no blood, ...
The Fury Of Cocks (Anne Sexton Poems)
There they are drooping over the breakfast plates, angel-like, folding in their sad wing, animal sad, and only the night ...