#Americans #Suicide #Women
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,…
It is in the small things we see i… The child’s first step, as awesome as an earthquake. The first time you rode a bike, wallowing up the sidewalk.
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
Anger, as black as a hook, overtakes me. Each day, each Nazi
Until tonight they were separate s… different stories, the best of the… Riding my warm cabin home, I reme… laughter; she laughed as you did,… story. Someday, I promised her, I…
I have gone out, a possessed witch… haunting the black air, braver at… dreaming evil, I have done my hitc… over the plain houses, light by li… lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out…
Some women marry houses. It’s another kind of skin; it has… a mouth, a liver and bowel movemen… The walls are permanent and pink. See how she sits on her knees all…
There was an unwanted child. Aborted by three modern methods she hung on to the womb, hooked onto I building her house into it
Ms. Sexton went out looking for t… She began looking in the sky —expecting a large white angel wit… No one. She looked next in all the learned…
My business is words. Words are l… or coins, or better, like swarming… I confess I am only broken by the… as if words were counted like dead… unbuckled from their yellow eyes a…
If I really am walking with ordin… past the same rest home on the sam… and see another waiting head at th… just as she would always sit, watching for anyone from her woode…
After the sweet promise, the summer’s mild retreat from mother’s cancer, the winter m… I come to this white office, its s… its hard tablet, its stirrups, to…
What is death, I ask. What is life, you ask. I give them both my buttocks, my two wheels rolling off toward N… They are neat as a wallet,
Not that it was beautiful, but that, in the end, there was a certain sense of order there; something worth learning in that narrow diary of my mind,
Kind Sir: This is an old game that we played when we were eight… Sometimes on The Island, in down… in late August, when the cold fog… off the ocean, the forest between…