#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #Suicide
On the stiff twig up there Hunches a wet black rook Arranging and rearranging its feat… I do not expect a miracle Or an accident
I came before the water— Colorists came to get the Good of the Cape light that scour… Sand grit to sided crystal And buffs and sleeks the blunt hul…
In the Archæological Museum in C… coffin of the fourth century A.D.… of a woman, a mouse and a shrew. T… woman has been slightly gnawed. Rigged poker —stiff on her back
Nightfall, cold eye——neither dishe… These goatish tragedians who Hawk misfortune like figs and chic… And, plaintiff against each day, d… Nature’s partial, haphazard thumb.
Fired in sanguine clay, the model… Fit nowhere: thumbed out as a clas… By a casual friend, it stood Obtrusive in the long bookshelf, s… Thick volumes of prose—
On storm—struck deck, wind sirens… With each tilt, shock and shudder,… Cleaves forward into fury; dark as… Waves wallop, assaulting the stubb… Flayed by spray, we take the chall…
Here in this valley of discrete ac… We have not mountains, but mounts,… To the Adirondacks, to northern M… Themselves mere rocky hillocks to… Still, they’re out best mustering…
The text of this poem could not be…
This was the land’s end: the last… Cramped on nothing. Black Admonitory cliffs, and the sea exp… With no bottom, or anything on the… Whitened by the faces of the drown…
'Tea leaves I’ve given up, And that crooked line On the queen’s palm Is no more my concern. On my black pilgrimage
Old man, you surface seldom. Then you come in with the tide’s coming When seas wash cold, foam— Capped: white hair, white beard,
Nobody in the lane, and nothing, n… Blackberries on either side, thoug… A blackberry alley, going down in… Somewhere at the end of it, heavin… Big as the ball of my thumb, and d…
It is ten years, now, since we row… The sun flamed straight down that… That summer we wore black glasses… We were always crying, in our spar… In the two, huge, white, handsome…
I can taste the tin of the sky ——t… Winter dawn is the color of metal, The trees stiffen into place like… All night I have dreamed of destr… An assembly—line of cut throats, a…
How far is it? How far is it now? The gigantic gorilla interior Of the wheels move, they appall me… The terrible brains