#Americans #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
Here, in the room of my life the objects keep changing. Ashtrays to cry into, the suffering brother of the wood…
Coon, why did you come to this dan… with a mask on? Why not the tin ma… and his rainbow girl? Why not Rac… his hair marcelled down to his che… Why not come as a stomach digestin…
Just once I knew what life was fo… In Boston, quite suddenly, I unde… walked there along the Charles Ri… watched the lights copying themsel… all neoned and strobe—hearted, ope…
Nature is full of teeth that come in one by one, then decay, fall out. In nature nothing is stable, all is change, bears, dogs, peas,…
There was a girl who danced in the city that night, that April 22nd, all along the Charles River. It was as if one hundred men were…
Mole, angel—dog of the pit, digging six miles a night, what’s up with you in your sooty s… where’s your kitchen at? I find you at the edge of our pond…
After I wrote this, a friend scra… And I said, merely to myself, “I… different seizure—as with Molly B… yes I said yes I will Yes.' It is not a turtle
Well, death’s been here for a long time — it has a hell of a lot to do with hell and suspicion of the eye
Over stone walls and barns, miles from the black—eyed Susans, over circus tents and moon rockets you are going, going. You who have inhabited me
You lay in the nest of your real d… Beyond the print of my nervous fin… Where they touched your moving hea… Your old skin puckering, your lung… Grown baby short as you looked up…
Sleeping in fever, I am unfair to know just who you are: hung up like a pig on exhibit, the delicate wrists, the beard drooling blood and vineg…
His awful skin stretched out by some tradesman is like my skin, here between my f… a kind of webbing, a kind of frog. Surely when first born my face was…
My mouth blooms like a cut. I’ve been wronged all year, tediou… nights, nothing but rough elbows i… and delicate boxes of Kleenex call… crybaby, you fool!
Today the circus poster is scabbing off the concrete wall and the children have forgotten if they knew at all. Father, do you remember?
Many a miner has gone into the deep pit to receive the dust of a kiss, an ore—cell. He has gone with his lamp