(Looking at the tree) Pity we haven’t got a bit of rope. ― Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot. (Grove Press; 1 edition, May 17, 2011) Originally published 1952. Premiered 5 January 1953 at theThéâtre de Babylone, Paris France.
For you I undress down to the sheaths of my nerves. I remove my jewelry and set it on the nightstand, I unhook my ribs, spread my lungs flat on a chair. I dissolve like a remedy in water, in wine. I spill without staining, and leave without stirring the air. I do it for… Continue reading Kim Addonizio
If you see beauty in something, don’t wait for others to agree. — Sherihan Gamal
The Woman I have never clearly given to you the associations you have for me, you with such divided presence my dream does not show you. I do not dream. I have compounded these sensations, the accumulation of the things left me by you. Always your tits, not breasts, but harsh sudden rises of impatient… Continue reading Robert Creeley
Drink wine. This is life eternal. This is all that youth will give you. It is the season for wine, roses and drunken friends. Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life. ― Omar Khayyám, Edward Fitzgerald’s Rubâ’iyât of Omar Khayyâm. (HardPress Publishing, August 1, 2012)
I wake up in your bed. I know I have been dreaming. Much earlier, the alarm broke us from each other, you’ve been at your desk for hours. I know what I dreamed: our friend the poet comes into my room where I’ve been writing for days, drafts, carbons, poems are scattered everywhere, and I… Continue reading Adrienne Rich