#Americans #Jews #Women
All over the district, on leather… & brocade couches, on daybeds & ‘professional divans,’ they… The air is thick with it, the ears of analysts must be stick…
The great bed of the world arching over graves over Babi Yar with its multitude of bones, with battalions of screams
I want to understand the steep thi… that climbs ladders in your throat… I can’t make sense of you. Everywhere I look you’re there— a vast landmark, a volcano
At dusk Demeter becomes afraid for baby Persephone lost in that hell which she herself created
Dearest man-in-the-moon, ever since our lunch of cheese & moonjuice on the far side of the sun, I have walked the craters of New…
Regret is the young girl who sits… & stares at her hands. They are bluer than shadows in sno… They are bloodless as fear. Her fingernail moons are white.
If it is impossible to promise absolute fidelity, this is because we learn so much geography from the shifting of one body
Old bag of bones upside down, what are you searching for in poetry, in meditation?
For Jennifer Josephy On cold days it is easy to be reasonable, to button the mouth against kisses… dust the breasts
The lover in these poems is me; the doctor, Love. He appears
Next birthday I am thirty-six, & formed (for all intents & purposes) in tooth & claw.
center The best slave does not need to be beaten. She beats herself. Not with a leather whip,
When we become truly ourselves, we… —Suzuki Sick of the self, the self—seducing self— with its games, its fears,
Baby-witch, my daughter, my worship of the Goddess alone condemns you to the fire. . .
On the first night of the full moon, the primeval sack of ocean broke, & I gave birth to you