#Americans #Jews #Women
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…
At the furthermost reach of the se… where Atlantis sinks under the wak… I have come to heal my life. I knit together like a broken arm. The salt fills the crevices of bon…
My love is too much– it embarrasses you– blood, poems, babies, red needs that telephone from foreign countries,
Dear Colette, I want to write to you about being a woman for that is what you write to me. I want to tell you how your face
With his head full of Shakespeare… and old notions of poetic justice, he was ready with his elegies the day the ocean sailed into the… ‘The sea,’ he wrote, 'is a forgivi…
You gave me the child that seamed my belly & stitched up my life. You gave me: one book of love poem… five years of peace
Handcuffed by time, I travel across this broad beautiful America– mesas, deserts, peaks with clouds caught
The lessons we learned here (fumbling with our lunchbags, handkerchiefs & secret cheeks of bubblegum) were graver than any
Already six years past your age! The steps in Rome, the house near Hampstead Heath, & all your fears that you might cease to be
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.
Rising in the morning like warm bread, from a bed in America, the aroma
I had pegged you as protégé, adoptee, someone I could save. The last thing I needed
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,
Black ship of night sailing through the world & the moon an orange slice tangy to the teeth of lovers who lie
The old poet with his face full of lines, with iambs jumping in his hair lik… with all the revisions of his body unsaying him,