#AmericanWriters
Mute marriages: the ten-ton block of ice obstructing the throat, the heart, the red filter of the liver, the clogged life.
I am not interested in my body– the part that stinks & rots & brings forth life,
On line at the supermarket waiting for the tally, the blue numerals tattooed on the white skins
The whole world is flat & I am round. Even women avert their eyes, & men, embarrassed by the messy way
"...a frozen memory, like any p… where nothing is missing, not even… and especially, nothingness..."… —Julio Cortázar, “Blow Up” Mirror-mad,
You are the first muse who came to… The others began & ended with… or a glance or a kiss between stan… the others strode away in the poin… or were kicked out by the stiletto…
Exploring each other’s depths, that surge of connection which makes the world seem sane,
I began by loving women & the love turned to bitterness. My mother, the bitter, whose bitter lesson–
Because I am here anchoring you to the passionate darkness, you gaze out the window at the light.
Again & again I have read your books without ever wishing to know you. I suck the alphabet of blood. I chew the iron filings of your wo…
We used to strike sparks off each other. Our eyes would meet or our hands, & the blue lightning of love
At dusk Demeter becomes afraid for baby Persephone lost in that hell which she herself created
I sit at my desk alone as I did on many Sunday afternoons when you came back to me, your arms aching for me,
Kabir says the breath inside the breath is God & I say to Kabir you are the breath inside that bre…
The first snow of the year & you lying between my breasts in my husband’s house & the snow gently rising in my… like guilt,