Margaret Atwood Poems

You're sad because you're sad.
It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical.
Go see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
...

The moment when, after many years
of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room,
house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,
...

You fit into me
like a hook into an eye

a fish hook
...

Love is not a profession
genteel or otherwise

sex is not dentistry
...

This is a word we use to plug
holes with. It's the right size for those warm
blanks in speech, for those red heart-
shaped vacancies on the page that look nothing
...

It was taken some time ago
At first it seems to be
a smeared
print: blurred lines and grey flecks
...

Cruising these residential Sunday
streets in dry August sunlight:
what offends us is
the sanities:
...

Your lungs fill & spread themselves,
wings of pink blood, and your bones
empty themselves and become hollow.
When you breathe in you’ll lift like a balloon
...

The world is full of women
who'd tell me I should be ashamed of myself
if they had the chance. Quit dancing.
Get some self-respect
...

Marriage is not
a house or even a tent
...