#Americans #Jews #Women
The great bed of the world arching over graves over Babi Yar with its multitude of bones, with battalions of screams
In the glass-bottomed boat of our lives, we putter along gazing at the other world under the sea– that world of flickering
On the first night of the full moon, the primeval sack of ocean broke, & I gave birth to you
A bespectacled artist called Lear First perfected this smile in a sn… He was clever and witty; He gave life to this ditty - That original author called Lear.
I hear you will not fall in love w… because I come without a guarantee… because someday I may depart at wh… and leave you desolate, abandoned,… If that’s the case, what use to be…
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…
Unable to bear the uncertainty of the future, we consulted seers, mediums, stock market gurus,
If it is only for the taking off– the velvet cloak, the ostrich feather boa, the dress which slithers to the fl… with the sound of strange men sigh…
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
center The best slave does not need to be beaten. She beats herself. Not with a leather whip,
We used to meet on this corner in the same wind. It fought us up the hill to your house,
You hate the telephone but will not see me face to face so I am left beseeching you
And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy. —William Blake Because I would not admit that I had nurtured
Nobody believes in love– not even me. Love is the thing you wait to end.