My mother's an expert in one thing:
sending people she loves into the other world.
The little ones
Little soul, little perpetually undressed one,
Do now as I bid you, climb
The shelf-like branches
The Greeks are sitting on the beach
wondering what to do when the war ends. No one
wants to go h
All day I tried to distinguish
need from desire. Now, in the dark,
I feel only bitter sadness fo
The nights have grown cool again, like the nights
Of early spring, and quiet again. Will
Look, a butterfly. Did you make a wish?
You don't wish on butterflies.
You do so. Did you make
Several weeks ago I discovered a photograph of my mother
sitting in the sun, her face flushed as wi
As a man and woman make
a garden between them like
a bed of stars, here
they linger in the summer
There were others; their bodies
were a preparation.
I have come to see it as that.
As a steam o
The elements have merged into solicitude,
Spasms of violets rise above the mud
And weed, and soon
As I perceive
I am dying now and know
I will not speak again, will not
survive the earth, be summ
Mother died last night,
Mother who never dies.
Winter was in the air,
many months away
Long ago, I was wounded. I lived
to revenge myself
against my father, not
for what he was--
I asked for much; I received much.
I asked for much; I received little, I received
next to nothi
In the end, I made myself
Known to your wife as
A god would, in her own house, in
Ithaca, a voice
Even now this landscape is assembling.
The hills darken. The oxen
Sleep in their blue yoke,
Child waking up in a dark room
screaming I want my duck back, I want my duck back
in a languag
What can I tell you that you don't know
that will make you tremble again?
by the road
Sometime after I had entered
that time of life
people prefer to allude to in others
I have a friend who still believes in heaven.
Not a stupid person, yet with all she knows, she lite
No one's despair is like my despair--
You have no place in this garden
thinking such things, pro
You saved me, you should remember me.
The spring of the year; young men buying tickets for the f
The great thing
is not having
a mind. Feelings:
oh, I have those; they
govern me. I have
What does the horse give you
That I cannot give you?
I watch you when you are alone,
When you r
I regret bitterly
The years of loving you in both
Your presence and absence, regret
The law, the
You're stepping on your father, my mother said,
and indeed I was standing exactly in the center
Speak to me, aching heart: what
Ridiculous errand are you inventing for yourself
Weeping in the da
You want to know how I spend my time?
I walk the front lawn, pretending
to be weeding. You ought t
I was trying to love matter.
I taped a sign over the mirror:
You cannot hate matter and love for
In the story of Patroclus
no one survives, not even Achilles
who was nearly a god.