#Americans #Suicide #Women
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…
Stars are dropping thick as stones… Picket of trees whose silhouette i… Than the dark of the sky because i… The woods are a well. The stars d… They seem large, yet they drop, an…
Overnight, very Whitely, discreetly, Very quietly Our toes, our noses Take hold on the loam,
Mother, mother, what illbred aunt Or what disfigured and unsightly Cousin did you so unwisely keep Unasked to my christening, that she Sent these ladies in her stead With heads like dar...
Since Christmas they have lived w… Guileless and clear, Oval soul—animals, Taking up half the space, Moving and rubbing on the silk
I ordered this, clean wood box Square as a chair and almost too h… I would say it was the coffin of a… Or a square baby Were there not such a din in it.
Flintlike, her feet struck Such a racket of echoes from the s… Tacking in moon-blued crooks from… Stone-built town, that she heard t… Its tinder and shake
Riding home from credulous blue do… the dreamer reins his waking appet… in panic at the crop of catacombs sprung up like plague of toadstool… refectories where he reveled have…
Gerd sits spindle—shaped in her da… Lean face gone tawn with seasons, Skin worn down to the knucklebones At her tough trade; without time’s… The burnished ball hangs fire in h…
Blameless as daylight I stood loo… At a field of horses, necks bent,… Tails streaming against the green Backdrop of sycamores. Sun was st… White chapel pinnacles over the ro…
The figs on the fig tree in the ya… Green, also, the grapes on the gre… Shading the brickred porch tiles. The money’s run out. How nature, sensing this, compound…
The winter landscape hangs in bala… Transfixed by glare of blue from g… The skaters freese within a stone… Air alters into glass and the whol… Grows brittle as a tilted china bo…
You will be aware of an absence, p… Growing beside you, like a tree, A death tree, color gone, an Aust… Balding, gelded by lightning—an il… And a sky like a pig’s backside, a…
Haunched like a faun, he hooed From grove of moon—glint and fen—f… Until all owls in the twigged fore… Flapped black to look and brood On the call this man made.
I’ve got a stubborn goose whose gu… Honeycombed with golden eggs, Yet won’t lay one. She, addled in her goose-wit, stru… The barnyard like those taloned ha…