Poems by Sharon Olds
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1954
... This was what his parents had been telling us: ...
The Daughter Goes To Camp
... electric with escape as it does in the room at a birth ...
The Unborn
... In the Dead Letter OfficeAnd sometimes, like tonight, by some black ...
The Pact
... Thanksgiving knife, where Mother wept at noon into her one ounce of ...
The Mortal One
... saucepan as if I would grow a black tree from the soup, ...
Crab
... so there was always enough, a mound of crab like a ...
The Space Heater
... or the familiar of a creature, or the child of a familiar, ...
The Clasp
... She was four, he was one, it was raining, we had colds, ...
Primitive
... the marriages run on talk, elegant and honest, rational ...
The Arrivals
... And at night, when they timed me, four hours of screaming, not a ...
The Sash
... knots of gristle at your waist as you walked, you could ...
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