#Americans #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
No lame excuses can gloss over Barge—tar clotted at the tide—line… I should have known better. Fifteen years between me and the b… Profited memory, but did away with…
By the roots of my hair some god g… I sizzled in his blue volts like a… The nights snapped out of sight li… A world of bald white days in a sh… A vulturous boredom pinned me in t…
Love set you going like a fat gold… The midwife slapped your footsoles… Took its place among the elements. Our voices echo, magnifying your a… In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Stasis in darkness. Then the substanceless blue Pour of tor and distances. God’s lioness, How one we grow,
Your brother will trim my hedges! They darken your house, Nosy grower, Mole on my shoulder, To be scratched absently,
The winter landscape hangs in bala… Transfixed by glare of blue from g… The skaters freese within a stone… Air alters into glass and the whol… Grows brittle as a tilted china bo…
'Perspective betrays with its dich… train tracks always meet, not here… in the impossible mind’s eye; horizons beat a retreat as we emba… on sophist seas to overtake that m…
You said you would kill it this mo… Do not kill it. It startles me st… The jut of that odd, dark head, pa… Through the uncut grass on the elm… It is something to own a pheasant,
He was the bullman earlierm King of the dish, my lucky animal. Breathing was easy in his airy hol… The sun sat in his armpit. Nothing went moldy. The little in…
Pure? What does it mean? The tongues of hell Are dull, dull as the triple Tongues of dull, fat Cerebus Who wheezes at the gate. Incapabl…
No novice In those elaborate rituals Which allay the malice Of knotted table and crooked chair… The new woman in the ward
Gerd sits spindle—shaped in her da… Lean face gone tawn with seasons, Skin worn down to the knucklebones At her tough trade; without time’s… The burnished ball hangs fire in h…
The day you died I went into the… Into the lightless hibernaculum Where bees, striped black and gold… Like hieratic stones, and the grou… It was good for twenty years, that…
It is a chilly god, a god of shade… Rises to the glass from his black… At the window, those unborn, those… Assemble with the frail paleness o… An envious phosphorescence in thei…
That lofty monarch, Monarch Mind, Blue-blooded in coarse country rei… Though he bedded in ermine, gorged… Pure Philosophy his love engrosse… While subjects hungered, empty-pur…