#AmericanWriters
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,
Driving me away is easier than saying goodbye– kissing the air,
You call me courageous, I who grew up gnawing on books, as some kids
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
If God is a dog drowsing, contemplating the quintessential dogginess of the universe, of the whole canine race, why are we
I am in love with my womb & jealous of it. I cover it tenderly with a little pink hat (a sort of yarmulke)
People who live by the sea understand eternity. They copy the curves of the waves, their hearts beat with the tides, & the saltiness of their blood
Books which are stitched up the ce… Books on the beach with sunglass-c… Books about food with pictures of… Books about baking bread with brow… Books about long-haired Frenchmen…
Goddess, I come to you my neck wreathed with rosebuds, my head filled with visions of inf… my palms open to your silver nails… my eyes open to your rays of illum…
Black ship of night sailing through the world & the moon an orange slice tangy to the teeth of lovers who lie
My love is too much– it embarrasses you– blood, poems, babies, red needs that telephone from foreign countries,
For centuries we have lain like this, our warmths intermingled, our hearts beating the same two-step,
I hear you will not fall in love w… because I come without a guarantee… because someday I may depart at wh… and leave you desolate, abandoned,… If that’s the case, what use to be…
the sky sinks its blue teeth into the mountains. Rising on pure will (the lurch & lift-off, the sudden swing