• A Bespectacled Artist Called Lear

    A bespectacled artist called Lear
    First perfected this smile in a sneer.... more »

  • A Reading

    The old poet
    with his face full of lines,
    with iambs jumping in his hair like fleas,
    with all the revisions of his body... more »

  • After The Earthquake

    After the first astounding rush,
    after the weeks at the lake,
    the crystal, the clouds, the water lapping the rocks,
    the snow breaking under our boots like skin,... more »

  • Alcestis On The Poetry Circuit

    The best slave
    does not need to be beaten.
    She beats herself.... more »

  • Another Language

    The whole world is flat
    & I am round.
    Even women avert their eyes,
    & men, embarrassed... more »

  • Anti-Conception

    Could I unthink you,
    little heart,
    what would I do?
    throw you out... more »

  • Anti-Matter

    I am not interested
    in my body-
    the part that stinks
    & rots & brings forth... more »

  • At The Edge Of The Body

    At the edge of the body
    there is said to be
    a flaming halo-
    yellow, red, blue... more »

  • At The Museum Of Natural History

    The lessons we learned here
    (fumbling with our lunchbags,
    handkerchiefs
    & secret cheeks of bubblegum)... more »

  • Aura

    I sit in the black leather chair
    meditating
    on the plume of smoke that rises
    in the air,... more »

  • Autobiographical

    The lover in these poems
    is me;
    the doctor,
    Love.... more »

  • Autumn Perspective

    Now, moving in, cartons on the floor,
    the radio playing to bare walls,
    picture hooks left stranded
    in the unsoiled squares where paintings were,... more »

  • Baby Witch

    Baby-witch,
    my daughter,
    my worship of the Goddess
    alone... more »

  • Beast, Book, Body

    I was sick of being a woman,
    sick of the pain,
    the irrelevant detail of sex,
    my own concavity... more »

  • Because I Would Not Admit

    Because I would not admit
    that I had nurtured
    an enemy within my breast-... more »

  • Becoming A Nun

    On cold days
    it is easy to be reasonable,
    to button the mouth against kisses,
    dust the breasts... more »

  • Birthdays

    Next birthday
    I am thirty-six,
    & formed (for all intents
    & purposes)... more »

  • Blood & Honey

    I began by loving women
    & the love turned
    to bitterness.... more »

  • Books

    Books which are stitched up the center with coarse white thread
    Books on the beach with sunglass-colored pages
    Books about food with pictures of weeping grapefruits
    Books about baking bread with browned corners... more »

  • By Train From Berlin

    A delicate border. A nonexistent country.
    The train obligingly dissolves in smoke.
    The G.I. next to me is talking war.
    I don't 'know the Asian mind,' he says.... more »

  • Catching Up

    We sit on a rock
    to allow our souls
    to catch up with us.... more »

  • Cheever's People

    These beautifully grown men. These hungerers.
    Look at them looking!
    They're overdrawn on all accounts but hope
    & they've missed... more »

  • Climbing You

    I want to understand the steep thing
    that climbs ladders in your throat.
    I can't make sense of you.
    Everywhere I look you're there--... more »

  • Colder

    He was six foot four, and forty-six
    and even colder than he thought he was

    James Thurber, The Thirteen Clocks... more »

  • Continental Divide

    Handcuffed by time,
    I travel across this broad
    beautiful America-
    mesas, deserts,... more »