Crab (Sharon Olds Poems)
When I eat crab, slide the rosy rubbery claw across my tongue I think of my mother. She'd drive down ...
When I eat crab, slide the rosy rubbery claw across my tongue I think of my mother. She'd drive down ...
On the then-below-zero day, it was on, near the patients' chair, the old heater kept by the analyst's couch, at ...
She was four, he was one, it was raining, we had colds, we had been in the apartment two weeks ...
I have heard about the civilized, the marriages run on talk, elegant and honest, rational. But you and I are ...
I pull the bed slowly open, I open the lips of the bed, get the stack of fresh underpants out ...
How do they do it, the ones who make love without love? Beautiful as dancers, gliding over each other like ...
The first ones were attached to my dress at the waist, one on either side, right at the point where ...
We decided to have the abortion, became killers together. The period that came changed nothing. They were dead, that young ...
To say that she came into me, from another world, is not true. Nothing comes into the universe and nothing ...
When I got to his marker, I sat on it, like sitting on the edge of someone's bed and I ...
A week later, I said to a friend: I don't think I could ever write about it. Maybe in a ...
After we flew across the country we got in bed, laid our bodies delicately together, like maps laid face to ...
Then dirt scared me, because of the dirt he had put on her face. And her training bra scared me-the ...
In the taxi alone, home from the airport, I could not believe you were gone. My palm kept creeping over ...
Sometimes I can almost see, around our heads, Like gnats around a streetlight in summer, The children we could have, ...
We played dolls in that house where Father staggered with the Thanksgiving knife, where Mother wept at noon into her ...
Three months after he lies dead, that long yellow narrow body, not like Christ but like one of his saints, ...
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