To Be of Use (Marge Piercy Poems)
The people I love the best jump into work head first without dallying in the shallows and swim off with ...
The people I love the best jump into work head first without dallying in the shallows and swim off with ...
Sometimes we collide, tectonic plates merging, continents shoving, crumpling down into the molten veins of fire deep in the earth ...
We sat across the table. he said, cut off your hands. they are always poking at things. they might touch ...
And thus the people every year in the valley of humid July did sacrifice themselves to the long green phallic ...
The construction of a woman: a woman is not made of flesh of bone and sinew belly and breasts, elbows ...
In flat America, in Chicago, Graceland cemetery on the German North Side. Forty feet of Corinthian candle celebrate Pullman embedded ...
The woman in the ordinary pudgy downcast girl is crouching with eyes and muscles clenched. Round and pebble smooth she ...
That afternoon the dream of the toads rang through the elms by Little River and affected the thoughts of men, ...
1. The dark socket of the year the pit, the cave where the sun lies down and threatens never to ...
Man stomping over my bed in boots carrying a large bronze church bell which you occasionally drop: gross man with ...
Mine, says the cat, putting out his paw of darkness. My lover, my friend, my slave, my toy, says the ...
Purple as tulips in May, mauve into lush velvet, purple as the stain blackberries leave on the lips, on the ...
You ask why sometimes I say stop why sometimes I cry no while I shake with pleasure. What do I ...
You strop my anger, especially when I find you in restaurant or bar and pay for the same liquid, coming ...
I am packing to go to the airport but somehow I am never packed. I keep remembering more things I ...
Talent is what they say you have after the novel is published and favorably reviewed. Beforehand what you have is ...
Under a sky the color of pea soup she is looking at her work growing away there actively, thickly like ...
A heap of wheat, says the Song of Songs but I've never seen wheat in a pile. Apples, potatoes, cabbages, ...
She wore little teeth of pearls around her neck. They were grinning politely and evenly at me. Unsuitable they smirked. ...
This girlchild was born as usual and presented dolls that did pee-pee and miniature GE stoves and irons and wee ...
Tomatoes rosy as perfect baby's buttocks, eggplants glossy as waxed fenders, purple neon flawless glistening peppers, pole beans fecund and ...
The bonsai tree in the attractive pot could have grown eighty feet tall on the side of a mountain till ...
Girls buck the wind in the grooves toward work in fuzzy coats promised to be warm as fur. The shop ...
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