The Sonnets: XLI banging around in a cigarette she isn’t “in love” my dream a drink with Ira Hayes we discuss the code of the west my hands make love to my body when my arms are around you you never tell me your name and I am forced to write “belly” when I mean… Continue reading Ted Berrigan
I kissed him passionately, I even wanted to bruise him, so that he would not be able to forget me. – Françoise Sagan, Bonjour Tristesse. (Pocket (FR) January 2004) Originally published 1954.
Reach into the vineyard of arteries for my heart. Eat the fruit of ignorance and share with me the mist and fragrance of dying. ― Leonard Cohen, from “Lines from My Grandfather’s Journal,” The Spice-Box of Earth. (Jonathan Cape, London 1973.; F edition 1973) Originally published 1961.
A tragedy need not have blood and death; it’s enough that it all be filled with that majestic sadness that is the pleasure of tragedy. — Jean Racine
Let us stifle under mud at the pond’s edge and affirm that it is fitting and delicious to lose everything. — Donald Hall, from “Affirmation,” The Painted Bed: Poems (Mariner Books; Reprint edition May 7, 2003)
I’m a lonely person. But that’s okay because I’ve gotten used to things like loneliness. — Ryūtarō Arimura, from “Sabishinbou/Lonely Person,” Ammonite (April 3, 2011)
It might interest you to know, speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world, that I am the sound of rain on the roof. — Billy Collins, from “Litany,” Nine Horses: Poems. (Random House Trade Paperbacks; Reprint edition October 14, 2003)