#Americans #Jews #Women
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 pass to the other side of the pa… —Pablo Neruda On the other side of the page where the last days go, where the lost poems go,
The lover in these poems is me; the doctor, Love. He appears
(a flip through BRIDE’s) The silver spoons were warbling their absurd musical names when, drawing back
Bobbing in the waters of the womb, little godhead, ten toes, ten fing… & infinite hope, sails upside down through the worl… My bones, I know, are only a cage
All the boring tedious young men with dead eyes & dirty hair .… all the mad young men who hate the… all the squalling baby boys . . . have grown up
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,
Smoke, it is all smoke in the throat of eternity. . . . For centuries, the air was full of… Whistling up chimneys on their spiky brooms
And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy. —William Blake Because I would not admit that I had nurtured
In the chest is caged bat who seeks escape through the mouth. He flaps his wings & the molars shiver.
I sit at home at my desk alone as I used to do on many sunday afternoons when you came back to me,
Love, death, sleeping with somebody else’s husband or wife-this is what poetry is about-Eskimo, Aztec,
Knowing our lives a drowse towards death (attended by dogs & children) how can it not matter
Kabir says the breath inside the breath is God & I say to Kabir you are the breath inside that bre…
When the devil brings him, like a Christmas puppy, examine his downy fur & smell his small paws for the scent of sulphur.