Is God the one who eats the meat off the bones of dead people? —Molly Miranda Jong—Fast, age 3… God is the one, Molly,

These beautifully grown men. Thes… Look at them looking! They’re overdrawn on all accounts… & they’ve missed (for the hundredth time) the expre…

The whole world is flat & I am round. Even women avert their eyes, & men, embarrassed by the messy way

Exploring each other’s depths, that surge of connection which makes the world seem sane,

Cement up to the neck & my head packed with unsaid words. A gullet full of pebbles, a mouth

"...a frozen memory, like any p… where nothing is missing, not even… and especially, nothingness..."… —Julio Cortázar, “Blow Up” Mirror-mad,

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…

Narrowing life because of the fear… narrowing it between the dust mote… narrowing the pink baby between the green-limbed monsters, & the drooling idiots,

Rising in the morning like warm bread, from a bed in America, the aroma

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…

I was sick of being a woman, sick of the pain, the irrelevant detail of sex, my own concavity uselessly hungering

Now, moving in, cartons on the flo… the radio playing to bare walls, picture hooks left stranded in the unsoiled squares where pain… and something reminding us

People wish to be settled. Onl… —Thoreau My life has been the instrument for a mouth

The women he has had are all faces without eyes. He has entered them blind as a cut worm. He has swum their oceans

I put our books face to face so they could talk. They whispered about us. I put yours on top of mine. They would not mate.