#Americans #Jews #Women
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
I am happiest near the ocean, where the changing light reminds me of my death & the fact that it need not be…
Sometimes the poem doesn’t want to come; it hides from the poet like a playful cat who has run
Handcuffed by time, I travel across this broad beautiful America– mesas, deserts, peaks with clouds caught
A bespectacled artist called Lear First perfected this smile in a sn… He was clever and witty; He gave life to this ditty - That original author called Lear.
Letting the mind go, letting the pen, the breath, the movement of images in & ou… of the mouth go calm, go rhythmic
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…
After the college reading, the eager students gather. They ask me
‘Why do you have stripes in your forehead, Mama? Are you
The man giving birth in the dark has died & come back to life again, is stretching out his arms
We used to meet on this corner in the same wind. It fought us up the hill to your house,
My love is too much– it embarrasses you– blood, poems, babies, red needs that telephone from foreign countries,
‘Hotel rooms constitute a separate… —Tom Stoppard A bed, a telephone, the cord to the world beyond the womb . . .
Male? Female? God doesn’t care about sex & the long tree-shaded avenue
I try to keep falling in love if only to keep death at bay.