an American poet, novelist, and social activist. She is the author of the New York Times bestseller Gone to Soldiers, a sweeping historical novel set during World War II.
Piercy was born in Detroit, Michigan, to a family deeply affected by the Great Depression. She was the first in her family to attend college, studying at the University of Michigan. Winning a Hopwood Award for Poetry and Fiction (1957) enabled her to finish college and spend some time in France, and her formal schooling ended with an M.A. from Northwestern University. Her first book of poems, Breaking Camp, was published in 1968.
An indifferent student in her early years, Piercy developed a love of ... more »
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Marge Piercy Poems
This girlchild was born as usual and presented dolls that did pee-pee and miniature GE stoves and irons and wee lipsticks the color of cherry candy.
A Work of Artifice
The bonsai tree in the attractive pot could have grown eighty feet tall on the side of a mountain
To Be of Use
The people I love the best jump into work head first without dallying in the shallows and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
What Are Big Girls Made Of?
The construction of a woman: a woman is not made of flesh of bone and sinew belly and breasts, elbows and liver and toe.
For the Young Who Want To
Talent is what they say you have after the novel is published and favorably reviewed. Beforehand what
We sat across the table. he said, cut off your hands. they are always poking at things. they might touch me.
She wore little teeth of pearls around her neck. They were grinning politely and evenly at me. Unsuitable they smirked. It is true
The Woman in the Ordinary
The woman in the ordinary pudgy downcast girl is crouching with eyes and muscles clenched. Round and pebble smooth she effaces herself under ripples of conversation and debate.
The Cat's Song
Mine, says the cat, putting out his paw of darkness. My lover, my friend, my slave, my toy, says the cat making on your chest his gesture of drawing milk from his mother's forgotten breasts.
My Mother's Body
1. The dark socket of the year the pit, the cave where the sun lies down
Colors Passing Through Us
Purple as tulips in May, mauve into lush velvet, purple as the stain blackberries leave on the lips, on the hands,
A heap of wheat, says the Song of Songs but I've never seen wheat in a pile. Apples, potatoes, cabbages, carrots make lumpy stacks, but you are sleek
Implications of One Plus One
Sometimes we collide, tectonic plates merging, continents shoving, crumpling down into the molten veins of fire deep in the earth and raising tons of rock into jagged crests of Sierra.
Attack of the Squash People
And thus the people every year in the valley of humid July did sacrifice themselves to the long green phallic god
Quotationsmore quotations »
''She never felt much in common with gay men; it was like telling her she ought to feel empathy with child molesters because they were both defined by the law as sexual deviants.''Marge Piercy (b. 1936), U.S. poet, novelist. The High Cost of Living, ch. 3 (1978). Referring to the character Leslie.
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
This girlchild was born as usual
and presented dolls that did pee-pee
and miniature GE stoves and irons
and wee lipsticks the color of cherry candy.
Then in the magic of puberty, a classmate said:
You have a great big nose and fat legs.
She was healthy, tested intelligent,
possessed strong arms and back,
abundant sexual drive and manual dexterity.
She went to and fro apologizing.
Everyone saw a fat nose on thick legs.
She was advised to play coy,
exhorted to come on hearty,
exercise, diet, smile and wheedle.
Her good nature wore out