By Anne Sexton
(Several lines, not necessarily in order or together, from her poem,”Words”, from her book The Awful Rowing Toward God.)
“Be careful of words
They are doves falling out of the ceiling
Once broken they are impossible
Things to repair”
Beware: Fragile – Wordswork
Into the darkness after hearing
The poetess weave her dark magic
The listeners stumbled blindly
Ducking as if for cover, dodging
Perceived in-coming explosives
Trying not to cower, or pray, or weep
To a one, they had been damaged
As truly as if, like any unsuspecting
And innocent, ordinary audience
While they sat quietly, in anticipation
Of something knowable, if not predictable
They had instead received grenades
Grenades lobbed so casually and with
Such unerring accuracy and deadly aim
They remained frozen in place as if dead
Even as the shards disguised as words
Blew every facade of normalcy to splinters
Leaving even the most banal thoughts
Tattered as dying crows or used motel towels
Too complexly difficult to reassemble
Anywhere within breathing distance of the one
The perpetrator; she who reeked
Of things rotting or near-dead,
Not poetry, not nicely crafted verse, no.
S.E. this has a beautiful magical quality to it.
ReplyDeletePamela