When Hades decided he loved this girl
he built for her a duplicate of earth,
everything the same, down to the meadow,... more »
The elements have merged into solicitude,
Spasms of violets rise above the mud
And weed, and soon the birds and ancients... more »
It came to me one night as I was falling asleep
that I had finished with those amorous adventures
to which I had long been a slave. Finished with love?... more »
Several weeks ago I discovered a photograph of my mother
sitting in the sun, her face flushed as with achievement or triumph.
The sun was shining. The dogs... more »
You're stepping on your father, my mother said,
and indeed I was standing exactly in the center
of a bed of grass, mown so neatly it could have been... more »
You see, they have no judgment.
So it is natural that they should drown,
first the ice taking them in... more »
I asked for much; I received much.
I asked for much; I received little, I received
next to nothing.... more »
Defier of closed space, such as the head, opener
Of the sealed passageways, so that... more »
The Greeks are sitting on the beach
wondering what to do when the war ends. No one
wants to go home, back... more »
You saved me, you should remember me.
The spring of the year; young men buying tickets for the ferryboats.
Laughter, because the air is full of apple blossoms.... more »
We're all dreamers; we don't know who we are.
Some machine made us; machine of the world, the constricting family.
Then back to the world, polished by soft whips.... more »
Spiked sun. The Hudson's
Whittled down by ice.
I hear the bone dice... more »
All day I tried to distinguish
need from desire. Now, in the dark,
I feel only bitter sadness for us,... more »
There were others; their bodies
were a preparation.
I have come to see it as that.... more »
Remember that time you made the wish?
I make a lot of wishes.
The time I lied to you... more »
Sometime after I had entered
that time of life
people prefer to allude to in others... more »
A child draws the outline of a body.
She draws what she can, but it is white all through,
she cannot fill in what she knows is there.
Within the unsupported line, she knows... more »
On nights like this we used to swim in the quarry,
the boys making up games requiring them to tear off the girls' clothes
and the girls cooperating, because they had new bodies since last summer... more »
Small light in the sky appearing
two pine boughs, their fine needles... more »
Reading what I have just written, I now believe
I stopped precipitously, so that my story seems to have been
slightly distorted, ending, as it did, not abruptly... more »
One summer she goes into the field as usual
stopping for a bit at the pool where she often
looks at herself, to see... more »
Is that an attitude for a flower, to stand
like a club at the walk; poor slain boy,
is that a way to show... more »
Is it winter again, is it cold again,
didn't Frank just slip on the ice,
didn't he heal, weren't the spring seeds planted... more »
In the early evening, a now, as man is bending
over his writing table.
Slowly he lifts his head; a woman
appears, carrying roses.... more »
In our family, there were two saints,
my aunt and my grandmother.
But their lives were different.... more »
The garden admires you.
For your sake it smears itself with green pigment,
The ecstatic reds of the roses,
So that you will come to it with your lovers.... more »
As I perceive
I am dying now and know
I will not speak again, will not
survive the earth, be summoned... more »
Night covers the pond with its wing.
Under the ringed moon I can make out
your face swimming among minnows and the small
echoing stars. In the night air... more »
Remember the days of our first happiness,
how strong we were, how dazed by passion,
lying all day, then all night in the narrow bed,
sleeping there, eating there too: it was summer,... more »
In the empty field, in the morning,
the body waits to be claimed.
The spirit sits beside it, on a small rock--
nothing comes to give it form again.... more »
As a man and woman make
a garden between them like
a bed of stars, here
they linger in the summer evening... more »
I never turned anyone into a pig.
Some people are pigs; I make them
Look like pigs.
I'm sick of your world
That lets the outside disguise the inside. Your men weren't bad men;
Did that to them. As pigs,
Under the care of
Me and my ladies, they
Sweetened right up.
Then I reversed the spell, showing you my goodness
As well as my power. I saw
We could be happy here,
As men and women are
When their needs are simple. In the same breath,
I foresaw your departure,
Your men with my help braving
The crying and ...
I'll tell you something: every day
people are dying. And that's just the beginning.
Every day, in funeral homes, new widows are born,
new orphans. They sit with their hands folded,
trying to decide about this new life.
Then they're in the cemetery, some of them
for the first time. They're frightened of crying,
sometimes of not crying. Someone leans over,