#AmericanWriters
If it is only for the taking off– the velvet cloak, the ostrich feather boa, the dress which slithers to the fl… with the sound of strange men sigh…
The lessons we learned here (fumbling with our lunchbags, handkerchiefs & secret cheeks of bubblegum) were graver than any
All over the district, on leather… & brocade couches, on daybeds & ‘professional divans,’ they… The air is thick with it, the ears of analysts must be stick…
The great bed of the world arching over graves over Babi Yar with its multitude of bones, with battalions of screams
He still wears the glass skin of c… Under his hands, the stones turn m… His eyes are knives. Who froze the ground to his feet? Who locked his mouth into an horiz…
You hate the telephone but will not see me face to face so I am left beseeching you
He says he is a perfect poet. He lives alone, with his perfect m… & sometimes they don’t even sp… So perfectly do they ‘communicate.… He lives alone, his greatest pleas…
the sky sinks its blue teeth into the mountains. Rising on pure will (the lurch & lift-off, the sudden swing
What happens when the juice of the… drenches you with its lemony tang, its tart swe… & your whole body stings with… so that your toes sing to your mou…
Narrowing life because of the fear… narrowing it between the dust mote… narrowing the pink baby between the green-limbed monsters, & the drooling idiots,
I want to understand the steep thi… that climbs ladders in your throat… I can’t make sense of you. Everywhere I look you’re there— a vast landmark, a volcano
Love, death, sleeping with somebody else’s husband or wife-this is what poetry is about-Eskimo, Aztec,
She was not a slender woman, but her skin was milk mixed in with strawberry jam & between her legs the word pu… & her hair was the color of wh…
The whole world is flat & I am round. Even women avert their eyes, & men, embarrassed by the messy way
In the glass-bottomed boat of our lives, we putter along gazing at the other world under the sea– that world of flickering