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9.8
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Anger, as black as a hook, overtakes me. Each day, each Nazi took, at 8: 00 A.M., a baby and sauteed him for breakfast in his frying pan.
And death looks on with a casual eye and picks at the dirt under his fingernail.
Man is evil, I say aloud. Man is a flower that should be burnt, I say aloud. Man is a bird full of mud, I say aloud.
And death looks on with a casual eye and scratches his anus.
Man with his small pink toes, with his miraculous fingers is not a temple but an outhouse, I say aloud. Let man never again raise his teacup. Let man never again write a book. Let man never again put on his shoe. Let man never again raise his eyes, on a soft July night. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. I say those things aloud.
I beg the Lord not to hear.
Anne Sexton
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Comments about this poem (After Auschwitz
by
Anne Sexton
) |
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comments about this poem (After Auschwitz by
Anne Sexton
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Jane Solan-robertson
(2/6/2008 12:53:00 PM) |
this poem is amazing, i feel the intense anger. thanks, jane s
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Linda Jacobs
(2/3/2008 6:12:00 AM) |
Oh my god! Right on target.... a sad truth... we are not such a noble breed after all.
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Anne Sexton
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