and his rainbow girl? Why not Racine,his hair marcelled down to his chest?Why not come as a stomach digestingits worms? Why you little fellowwith your ears at attention and yournose poking up like a microphone?You whig emblem, you woman chaser,who do you dance over the wide lawn tonightclanging the garbage pail like great silver bells?
and walkedout of the room,ending the argument.He stomped offsaying:‘I don’t give guarantees’.I was leftquite aloneusing up the darkness.I rolled upmy sweater,up into a ball,and took itto bed with me,a kind of stand-infor God,what washerwomanwho walks outwhen you’re cleanbut not ironed.When I woke upthe sweaterhad turned tobricks of gold.I’d won the worldbut like aforsaken explorer,I’d lostmy…
genius children and bought twelve almost-newgrand pianos. He left a considerable estatewhen he died. The children honored theirseparate arts; two became moderately famous,three married and fattened their delicate shareof wealth and brilliance. The sixth one wasa concert pianist. She had a notable careerand wore cropped hair and walked like a man,or so I heard when…
that April 22nd,all along the Charles River.It was as if one hundred men were watchingor do I mean the one hundred eyes of God?The yellow patches in the sycamoresglowed like miniature flashlights.The shadows, the skin of themwere ice cubes that flashedfrom the red dress to the roof.Mile by mile along the Charles she dancedpast the…
The fierce bubbles of chalk,the little white lesionssettle on the street outside.It is snowing and the ninetyyear old woman who was combingout her long white wraith hairis gone, embalmed even now,even tonight her arms are smoothmuskets at her side and nothingissues from her but her last word – ‘Oh.’ Surprised by death.It is snowing. Paper…
black, red, brown, allwith those brass buckles.Remember when you couldn’tbuckle your ownovershoeor tie your ownovershoeor tie your own shoeor cut your own meatand the tearsrunning down like mudbecause you fell off yourtricycle?Remember, big fish,when you couldn’t swimand simply slipped underlike a stone frog?The world wasn’tyours.It belonged tothe big people.Under your bedsat the wolfand he made…
I was stamped out like a Plymouth fenderinto this world.First came the cribwith its glacial bars.Then dollsand the devotion to their plactic mouths.Then there was school,the little straight rows of chairs,blotting my name over and over,but undersea all the time,a stranger whose elbows wouldn’t work.Then there was lifewith its cruel housesand people who seldom touched-though…
out of the tribe of myself my breathfinds you gone. I horrifythose who stand by. I am fed.At night, alone, I marry the bed.Finger to finger, now she’s mine.She’s not too far. She’s my encounter.I beat her like a bell. I reclinein the bower where you used to mount her.You borrowed me on the flowered…
an aura of iceand phlegm.All day I’ve builta lifetime and nowthe sun sinks toundo it.The horizon bleedsand sucks its thumb.The little red thumbgoes out of sight.And I wonder aboutthis lifetime with myself,this dream I’m living.I could eat the skylike an applebut I’d ratherask the first star:why am I here?why do I live in this house?who’s…
tired of my mouth and my breasts,tired of the cosmetics and the silks.There were still men who sat at my table,circled around the bowl I offered up.The bowl was filled with purple grapesand the flies hovered in for the scentand even my father came with his white bone.But I was tired of the gender things.Last…
