Poems by Anne Sexton
Bat
... In August perhaps as the trees rose to the stars ...
The Fury Of Overshoes
... it is dark, where are the big people, ...
The Evil Eye
... or your money. Otherwise a sand flea will crawl in your ear ...
The Fury Of Abandonment
... It makes me laugh for America and New York city ...
Old
... full of objects and my sister's laughter ...
The Fury Of Hating Eyes
... Bury them. Take the hating eyes of martyrs, ...
The Fury Of Sunsets
... and phlegm. All day I've built ...
It Is A Spring Afternoon
... Her body carries clouds all the way home ...
The Death King
... breathe on me, thinking of my poor murdered body, ...
The Child Bearers
... or yours in the seventh grade, with her spleen ...
The Earth
... for gold, even its babies sniffing for their music, ...
Earthworm
... be severed and rise from the dead like a gargoyle ...
The Play
... or, keep your broken arm inside your sleeve ...
The Other
... When the child is soothed and resting on the breast ...
The Fury Of Sunrises
... of lightness and the birds in their chains ...
