Marge Piercy Poems
|1.||The Secretary Chant||5/13/2015|
|2.||The cup of Eliyahu||12/1/2015|
|4.||The Birthday Of The World||3/17/2015|
|5.||Visiting A Dead Man On A Summer Day||1/3/2003|
|9.||The Morning Half-Life Blues||1/1/2004|
|10.||To The Pay Toilet||1/20/2003|
|12.||The Woman In The Ordinary||1/3/2003|
|13.||The Cat's Song||1/3/2003|
|14.||Attack Of The Squash People||1/3/2003|
|16.||My Mother's Body||1/3/2003|
|17.||For The Young Who Want To||1/3/2003|
|18.||Implications Of One Plus One||1/3/2003|
|21.||Colors Passing Through Us||1/3/2003|
|22.||What Are Big Girls Made Of?||1/3/2003|
|23.||To Be Of Use||1/3/2003|
|24.||A Work Of Artifice||1/3/2003|
Comments about Marge Piercy
This girlchild was born as usual
and presented dolls that did pee-pee
and miniature GE stoves and irons
and wee lipsticks the color of cherry candy.
Then in the magic of puberty, a classmate said:
You have a great big nose and fat legs.
She was healthy, tested intelligent,
possessed strong arms and back,
abundant sexual drive and manual dexterity.
She went to and fro apologizing.
Everyone saw a fat nose on thick legs.
She was advised to play coy,
exhorted to come on hearty,
exercise, diet, smile and wheedle.
Her good nature wore out
A Work Of Artifice
The bonsai tree
in the attractive pot
could have grown eighty feet tall
on the side of a mountain
till split by lightning.
But a gardener
carefully pruned it.
It is nine inches high.
Every day as he