Anne Sexton

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

As It Was Written - Poem by Anne Sexton

Earth, earth,
riding your merry-go-round
toward extinction,
right to the roots,
thickening the oceans like gravy,
festering in your caves,
you are becoming a latrine.
Your trees are twisted chairs.
Your flowers moan at their mirrors,
and cry for a sun that doesn't wear a mask.

Your clouds wear white,
trying to become nuns
and say novenas to the sky.
The sky is yellow with its jaundice,
and its veins spill into the rivers
where the fish kneel down
to swallow hair and goat's eyes.

All in all, I'd say,
the world is strangling.
And I, in my bed each night,
listen to my twenty shoes
converse about it.
And the moon,
under its dark hood,
falls out of the sky each night,
with its hungry red mouth
to suck at my scars.

Comments about As It Was Written by Anne Sexton

  • Gold Star - 36,621 Points * Sunprincess * (3/14/2014 9:10:00 PM)

    And the moon,
    under its dark hood,
    falls out of the sky each night, (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Poem Edited: Thursday, November 10, 2011

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