Quote

We are America. We are the coffin fillers. We are the grocers of death. We pack them in crates like cauliflowers.

Anne Sexton

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Anne Sexton
Age: 45 †
Born: 1928
Born: November 9
Died: 1974
Died: October 4
Poet
Writer
Newton
Massachusetts
Anne Gray Harvey
Coffins
Pack
Packs
Death
Crates
America
Cauliflower
Like
Grocers
Fillers
Coffin

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I want to kiss God on His nose and watch Him sneeze and so do you. Not out of disrespect. Out of pique. Out of a man-to-man thing.
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I said, the poets are there I hear them singing and lying around their round table and around me still.
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Please God, we're all right here. Please leave us alone. Don't send death in his fat red suit and his ho-ho baritone.
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Suddenly I'm not half the girl I used to be. There's a shadow hanging over me . . . From me to you out of my electric devil.
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Maybe I am becoming a hermit, opening the door for only a few special animals? Maybe my skull is too crowded and it has no opening through which to feed it soup?
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I was the girl of the chain letter, the girl full of talk of coffins and keyholes, the one of the telephone bills, the wrinkled photo and the lost connections.
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What's the point of fighting the dollars when all you need is a warm bed? When the dog barks you let him in. All we need is someone to let us in. And one other thing: to consider the lilies in the field.
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I hoard books. They are people who do not leave.
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My heart is on a budget. It keeps me on the brink.
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And thus Snow White became the prince's bride. The wicked queen was invited to the wedding feast and when she arrived there were red-hot iron shoes, in the manner of red-hot roller skates, clamped upon her feet.
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No one to hate except the slim fish of memory that slides in and out of my brain.
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Thumbs grow into my throat. I wear slaps like a spot of rouge.
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Images are probably the most important part of the poem. First of all you want to tell a story, but images are what are going to shore it up and get to the heart of the matter.
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The joy that isn't shared dies young.
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Our children tremble in their teen-age cribs, whirling off on a thumb or a motorcycle.
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sorrow is easier than guilt.
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We are all writing God's poem.
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And if I tried to give you something else, something outside myself, you would not know that the worst of anyone can be, finally, an accident of hope
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Daisies in water are the longest lasting flower you can give to someone. Fact. Buy daisies. Not roses.
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Let God be some tribal female who is known but forbidden.
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