#Americans #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
Your brother will trim my hedges! They darken your house, Nosy grower, Mole on my shoulder, To be scratched absently,
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
Gold mouths cry with the green you… certainty of the bronze boy remembering a thousand autumns and how a hundred thousand leaves came sliding down his shoulder bla…
I am sending back the key that let me into bluebeard’s study… because he would make love to me I am sending back the key; in his eye’s darkroom I can see
A squeal of brakes. Or is it a birth cry? And here we are, hung out over the… Uncle, pants factory Fatso, milli… And you out cold beside me in your…
Mud-mattressed under the sign of t… In a clench of blood, the sleep-ta… Gibbets with her curse the moon’s… ****-bearing Jack in his crackless… Hatched with a claret hogshead to…
The abstracts hover like dull ange… Nothing so vulgar as a nose or an… Bossing the ethereal blanks of the… Their whiteness bears no relation… Snow, chalk or suchlike. They’re
This man makes a pseudonym And crawls behind it like a worm. This woman on the telephone Says she is a man, not a woman. The mask increases, eats the worm,
A garden of mouthings. Purple, sc… The great corollas dilate, peeling… Their musk encroaches, circle afte… A well of scents almost too dense… Hieratical in your frock coat, mae…
Compelled by calamity’s magnet They loiter and stare as if the ho… Burnt—out were theirs, or as if th… Some scandal might any minute ooze From a smoke—choked closet into li…
We came over the moor—top Through air streaming and green—li… Stone farms foundering in it, Valleys of grass altering In a light neither dawn
Always in the middle of a kiss Came the profane stimulus to cough… Always from teh pulpit during serv… Leaned the devil prompting you to… Behind mock—ceremony of your grief
I’m through with this grand lookin… where adjectives play croquet with… methinks I shall absent me for a w… from rhetoric of these rococo quee… Item: chuck out royal rigmarole of…
Through fen and farmland walking With my own country love I saw slow flocked cows move White hulks on their day’s cruisin… Sweet grass sprang for their grazi…
The yew’s black fingers wag: Cold clouds go over. So the deaf and dumb Signal the blind, and are ignored. I like black statements.
