Monday, March 23, 2015

Again and Again and Again by Anne Sexton

Again and Again and Again

You said the anger would come back 
just as the love did. 

I have a black look I do not 
like. It is a mask I try on. 
I migrate toward it and its frog 
sits on my lips and defecates. 
It is old. It is also a pauper. 
I have tried to keep it on a diet. 
I give it no unction. 

There is a good look that I wear 
like a blood clot. I have 
sewn it over my left breast. 
I have made a vocation of it. 
Lust has taken plant in it 
and I have placed you and your 
child at its milk tip. 

Oh the blackness is murderous 
and the milk tip is brimming 
and each machine is working 
and I will kiss you when 
I cut up one dozen new men 
and you will die somewhat, 
again and again. 


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