The Man Inside Of Woman Ties A

My Husband Sings Baa Baa Black Sheep And We Pretend That All's Certain And Good, That The Marriage Won't End.

The Saints Come, As Human As A Mouth, With A Bag Of God In Their Backs, Like A Hunchback, They Come, They Come Marching In.

We Do Not Explain My Husband's Insane Abuse And We Do Not Say Why Your Wild-haired Wife Has Fled Or That My Father Opened Like A Walnut And Then Was Dead. Your Palms Fold Over Me Like Knees. Love Is The Only Use.

I Like You; Your Eyes Are Full Of Language." [letter To Anne Clarke, July 3, 1964.]

My Eyes, Those Sluts, Those Whores, Would Play No More.