Quote

Once upon a time we were all born, popped out like jelly rolls forgetting our fishdom, the pleasuring seas, the country of comfort, spanked into the oxygens of death.

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
Born
Seas
Death
Forgetting
Country
Oxygen
Time
Sea
Like
Comfort
Spanked
Birth
Popped
Forget
Jelly
Upon
Rolls

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I love the word warm. It is almost unbearable-- so moist and breathlike.
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Though rain curses the window let the poem be made.
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There is an animal inside me, clutching fast to my heart, a huge crab.
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If you meet a cross-eyed person you must plunge into the grass, alongside the chilly ants, fish through the green fingernails and come up with the four-leaf clover.
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The beautiful feeling after writing a poem is on the whole better even than after sex, and that's saying a lot.
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One can't build little white picket fences to keep nightmares out.
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O starry night, This is how I want to die
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I am tearing the feathers out of the pillows, waiting, waiting for Daddy to come home and stuff me so full of our infected child that I turn invisible, but married, at last.
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Yes I try to kill myself in small amounts, an innocuous occupation. Actually I'm hung up on it.
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Not that it was beautiful, but that I found some order there.
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Give me your skin as sheer as a cobweb, let me open it up and listen in and scoop out the dark.
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Rats live on no evil star
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The family story tells, and it was told true, of my great-grandfather who begat eight genius children and bought twelve almost new grand pianos. He left a considerable estate when he died.
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unless I can shake myself free of my dog, my flag, of my desk, my mind, I find life a bit of a drag. Not always, mind you. Usually I'm like my frying pan useful, graceful, sturdy and with no caper, no plan.
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... and my love stays bitterly glowing, spasms of it will not sleep, and I am helpless and thirsty and need shade but there is no one to cover me- not even God.
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To love another is somethinglike prayer and it can't be planned, you just fallinto its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.
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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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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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But my future is a secret. / It is as shy as a mole.
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