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 ...
No matter what life you leadthe virgin is a lovely number:cheeks as fragile as cigarette paper,arms and legs made of ...
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 ...
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 was tired of being a woman,tired of the spoons and the post,tired of my mouth and my breasts,tired of ...
Somebody who should have been born is gone.Just as the earth puckered its mouth, each bud puffing out from its ...
Sleeping in fever, I am unfair to know just who you are: hung up like a pig on exhibit, the ...
Like Oedipus I am losing my sight. LIke Judas I have done my wrong. Their punishment is over; the shame ...
This is the key to it. This is the key to everything. Preciously. I am worse than the gamekeeper's children ...
Who's she, that one in your arms? She's the one I carried my bones to and built a house that ...
So it has come to this insomnia at 3:15 A.M., the clock tolling its engine like a frog following a ...
In his tenth July some instinct taught him to arm the waiting wave, a giant where its mouth hung open. ...
Watch out for power, for its avalanche can bury you, snow, snow, snow, smothering your mountain. Watch out for hate, ...
The day of fire is coming, the thrush, will fly ablaze like a little sky rocket, the beetle will sink ...
1. I am thirty this November. You are still small, in your fourth year. We stand watching the yellow leaves ...
My dear, it was a moment to clutch for a moment so that you may believe in it and believing ...
Today the circus poster is scabbing off the concrete wall and the children have forgotten if they knew at all. ...
I've been going right on, page by page, since we last kissed, two long dolls in a cage, two hunger-mongers ...
There was a girl who danced in the city that night, that April 22nd, all along the Charles River. It ...
I am not lazy. I am on the amphetamine of the soul. I am, each day, typing out the God ...
Anger, as black as a hook, overtakes me. Each day, each Nazi took, at 8:00 A.M., a baby and sauteed ...
My doctor, the comedian I called you every time and made you laugh yourself when I wrote this silly rhyme... ...
For my mother, born March 1902, died March 1959 and my father, born February 1900, died June 1959 Gone, I ...
A woman who writes feels too much, those trances and portents! As if cycles and children and islands weren't enough; ...
If you danced from midnight to six A.M. who would understand? The runaway boy who chucks it all to live ...
Your daisies have come on the day of my divorce: the courtroom a cement box, a gas chamber for the ...
Inside many of us is a small old man who wants to get out. No bigger than a two-year-old whom ...
Sing me a thrush, bone. Sing me a nest of cup and pestle. Sing me a sweetbread fr an old ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories