#Americans #Jews #Women
She left him in death’s egg, the bone sack & the gunny sack… the bag of down & feathers-all… Somehow he couldn’t get back. It was night,
You operate on the afternoon You perform open heart surgery on the ghosts of your suicidal friends You divorce your parents
The great bed of the world arching over graves over Babi Yar with its multitude of bones, with battalions of screams
You can be hurt because you want too much; because in your face it says: love me, nurture me; because in your teeth it says:
All night he lies awake tuning the… tuning the night with its fat crac… with its melancholy love songs cro… across the rainy air above Verdun & the autobahn’s blue suicidal…
I sit at my desk alone as I did on many Sunday afternoons when you came back to me, your arms aching for me,
Black ship of night sailing through the world & the moon an orange slice tangy to the teeth of lovers who lie
This constant ache is my leg’s message to me. ‘Hello. Hello. Hello. You’re getting there,' it says, ‘step by step.’
Because I am here anchoring you to the passionate darkness, you gaze out the window at the light.
At the edge of the body there is said to be a flaming halo– yellow, red, blue or pure white,
What is the central passion of a life? To please mummy & daddy? To find a home for their furniture… To found a family of one’s own,
If you ask him he will talk for ho… how at fourteen he hammered signs,… raw with cold, and later painted b… in ladies’ boudoirs; how he played… for two weeks in jail, and lived o…
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…
Dearest man-in-the-moon, ever since our lunch of cheese & moonjuice on the far side of the sun, I have walked the craters of New…
You sleep in the darkness, you with the back I love & the gift of sleeping through my noisy nights of poetry. I have taken other men into my tho…