Poems by Anne Sexton
The Fury Of Cocks
... angel-like, folding in their sad wing, ...
To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Triumph
... testing that strange little tug at his shoulder blade, ...
Obsessive Combination Of Onotological Inscape, Trickery And Love
... down tiers of tries until its secret rites ...
August 8th
... spooking my lonely hours you were there, but pretend ...
A Curse Against Elegies
... And the dead are bored with the whole thing ...
After Auschwitz
... I say aloud. Let man never again raise his teacup ...
The Twelve Dancing Princesses
... The soldier went forward through the dormitory and into ...
Rumpelstiltskin
... He told her: As I came around the corner of the wood ...
End, Middle, Beginning
... though kill was tangled into her beginning ...
Doors, Doors, Doors
... hold hands as if we were still children who trudgeup the wooden tower, on up past that close platoon ...
Flee On Your Donkey
... to flee to, I came back to the scene of the disordered senses, ...
Unknown Girl In A Maternity Ward
... Child, the current of your breath is six days long ...
And One For My Dame
... he typed out complex itineraries, packed his trunk,his matched luggage ...
For God While Sleeping
... jolting toward death under your nameplate ...
Dreaming The Breasts
... the laugh somewhere over my woolly hat, ...
