Anne Sexton

(9 November 1928 – 4 October 1974 / Newton, Massachusetts)

Anne Sexton Poems

61. The Evil Seekers 3/29/2010
62. The Evil Eye 3/29/2010
63. The Errand 3/29/2010
64. The Earth Falls Down 3/29/2010
65. The Earth 3/29/2010
66. The Double Image 3/29/2010
67. The Doctor Of The Heart 3/29/2010
68. The Division Of Parts 3/29/2010
69. The Death King 3/29/2010
70. The Death Baby 3/29/2010
71. The Dead Heart 3/29/2010
72. The Consecrating Mother 3/29/2010
73. The Civil War 3/29/2010
74. The Children 3/29/2010
75. The Child Bearers 3/29/2010
76. The Breast 3/29/2010
77. The Break Away 3/29/2010
78. The Break 3/29/2010
79. The Black Art 6/27/2006
80. The Big Heart 3/29/2010

The Black Art

A woman who writes feels too much,
those trances and portents!
As if cycles and children and islands
weren't enough; as if mourners and gossips
and vegetables were never enough.
She thinks she can warn the stars.
A writer is essentially a spy.
Dear love, I am that girl.

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