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You cutting the lawn, fixing the machines, all this leprous day and then more vodka, more soda and the pond forgiving our bodies, the pond sucking out the throb.

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
Fixing
Throb
Bodies
Sucking
Forgiving
Lawn
Machines
Pond
Cutting
Soda
Body
Vodka
Ponds
Lawns

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The day of fire is coming, the thrush will fly ablaze like a little sky rocket.
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life is a trick, life is a kitten in a sack.
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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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Now that I have written many words, and let out so many loves, for so many, and been altogether what I always was a woman of excess, of zeal and greed, I find the effort useless.
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Don’t worry if they say you’re crazy. They said that about me and yet I was saner than all of them. I knew. No matter. You know. Insane or sane, you know. It’s a good thing to know - no matter what they call it.
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Being kissed on the back of the knee is a moth at the windowscreen.
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Not that it was beautiful, but that I found some order there.
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My faith is a great weight hung on a small wire, as doth the spider hang her baby on a thin web.
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we do not explain my husband's insane abuse and we do not say why your wild-haired wife has fled or that my father opened like a walnut and then was dead. Your palms fold over me like knees. Love is the only use.
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All in all, I'd say, the world is strangling.
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I'm the crazy one who thinks that words reach people.
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I imitatea memory of beliefthat I do not own.
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Come, my pretender, my fritter, my bubbler, my chicken biddy! Oh succulent one, it is but one turn in the road and I would be a cannibal!
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