Anne Sexton

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

Anne Sexton Poems

161. The Black Art 6/27/2006
162. An Obsessive Combination Of Onotological Inscape, Trickery And Love 6/27/2006
163. The Kiss 6/27/2006
164. I Remember 3/29/2010
165. The Truth The Dead Know 6/27/2006
166. Demon 7/11/2006
167. And One For My Dame 6/27/2006
168. Consorting With Angels 7/11/2006
169. Angels Of The Love Affair 6/27/2006
170. Snow White And The Seven Dwarfs 6/27/2006
171. Her Kind 6/27/2006
172. Cigarettes And Whiskey And Wild, Wild Women 7/11/2006
173. Courage 7/11/2006
174. All My Pretty Ones 3/29/2010
175. Christmas Eve 6/27/2006
176. Buying The Whore 6/27/2006
177. Cinderella 7/11/2006
178. Barefoot 6/27/2006
179. Music Swims Back To Me 6/27/2006
180. A Curse Against Elegies 6/27/2006
181. Again And Again And Again 6/27/2006
182. Briar Rose (Sleeping Beauty) 6/27/2006
183. Admonitions To A Special Person 6/27/2006
184. Baby Picture 6/27/2006
185. A Story For Rose On The Midnight Flight To Boston 6/27/2006
186. Anna Who Was Mad 6/27/2006
187. 45 Mercy Street 6/27/2006
188. After Auschwitz 6/27/2006
Best Poem of Anne Sexton

After Auschwitz

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 ...

Read the full of After Auschwitz

After Auschwitz

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.

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