the
cat
so
proud
in
the
grass
there
having
just
beaten
a
mouse
to
death

portishead
played
and
there
I
was
back
in
1998
again

that
one
guy
who
looks
at
me
with
those
bright
eyes
that
make
me
want
to
hide

love
love
love
love
love
love
love
love
love
love
love
love
love
love
love
love
love

I 

considered 

the 

sun 

'cause 

that's 

'bout 

all

I 

could 

consider 

today 

when
you
read
it
read
it
slowly
in
my
voice
the
way
i
sound
in
your
ear

i
want
to
dip
my
nipples
into
your
mouth
set
myself
upon
you

he
told
her
her
mother
was
sick
but
she'd
just
caught
the
heroin
flu

you're
just
a
picture
but
I
think
I
could've
fallen
in
love
with
you

the
poem
sat
waiting
for
me
on
the
tip
of
my
tongue
old
girl

describing
a
psychedelic
experience
where
I
was
crying

I
write
poems
he
draws
pictures
he
sometimes
paints
with
watercolors

I
feel
like
giving
up
today
but
I
won't
not
just
yet
not
today

the
surface
is
made
of
layers
and
layers
it's
not
all
that
it
seems

I
could
live
in
a
treehouse
talk
to
the
animals
drink
from
the
falls

the
line
had
cut
out
but
it
didn't
matter
I
still
felt
what
she'd
said

she
ate
pulled
pork
for
breakfast
swam
in
the
pool
in
the
rain
as
yucca
watched

we
could
hear
the
crickets
see
the
june
bugs
and
feel
all
the
mosquitoes

the
girls
were
arguing
and
arguing
about
who
would
marry
batman

don't
believe
her
when
she
says
she
has
the
blues
she
loves
her
charmed
life

sing
me
your
songs
I
want
to
remember
them
and
sing
them
when
I'm
sad

be
still
my
beating
heart
on
second
thought
don't
be
still
flutter
away

I
want
to
tell
you
about
the
dream
where
I
dreamt
I
could
play
the
flute

she's
intimidated
by
me
because
the
truth
comes
so
naturally

I
was
trying
to
work
out
a
poem
so
I
thought
I'd
watch
my
soap

I
looked
at
her
class
picture
and
thought
someday
I'll
forget
all
their
names

it
was
my
daughter's
last
day
of
kindergarten
I
felt
accomplished

I
think
I
know
how
he
must've
felt
when
I
told
him
my
water
just
broke

my
daughter
the
fruit
of
me
blossoming
ripening
someday
fallen

I
dreamt
I
held
her
in
my
lap
stroked
her
hair
but
she'd
been
cruel
to
me

I
waited
on
the
night
all
day
I
waited
'til
my
dark
lover
came

today
seems
to
matter
but
it
doesn't
it
makes
no
difference

my
family
goes
to
sleep
I
am
awake
reading
the
deep
poems

you
know
not
demon
crazy
just
motivated
crazy
you
get
it

beside
my
sick
daughter
our
bodies
don't
touch
but
needing
each
other

the
lascivious
poet
awoke
wanton
she
threw
her
words
like
spears

your
smile's
asymmetrical
your
left
eye
droops
together
it
makes
you

I
wait
on
dinner
your
gentle
words
I
eat
tonight
I
sleep
soundly

she
puts
the
perspiration
in
inspiration
toasts
her
devil's
cup

let
me
tell
you
of
the
girl
with
black
eyes
dark
hair
skin
as
white
as
the
sea

the
meaning
in
lying
nude
in
the
long
grass
walking
the
city
blocks

the
touching
grass
the
smelling
sun
the
seeing
air
the
hearing
mountain

what
legacy
I
leave
they'll
remember
cafes
poems
long
brown
hair

awake
I
hear
Sexton's
voice
for
the
first
time
we
have
two
daughters
each

I'm
living
on
your
words
even
with
the
quietest
of
sounds
I
eat

the
sun
took
me
away
laid
me
down
in
the
grass
and
left
me
alone

I
am
the
tree
I
am
the
mountain
I
am
the
sea
I
am
the
breeze

the
light
in
the
sky
is
very
pretty
they
call
that
light
the
sun

isn't
this
so
exciting
kitty
we
get
to
take
a
nap
together

the
light
is
coming
through
the
windows
and
the
floors
are
clean
spring's
so
sprung

I
won't
die
I'll
live
'til
eternity
and
then
I'll
live
a
little
more

my
hand
on
your
cheek
when
you're
smiling
your
hair
your
eyes
in
my
life

sexton's
poems
girpped
my
heart
the
way
the
owl's
talons
did
grip
plath's

I
felt
giddy
coming
from
nowhere
like
something
great
would
soon
happen

and
while
they're
probably
homesick
she
wrote
they
won't
go
back
and
I
can't

I
waited
for
the
storm
for
days
I
could
stand
to
wait
awhile
more
all
right

it
was
that
hour
the
witching
one
where
the
sky's
darkest
just
before
the
light

they
said
a
storm
was
coming
I
sat
on
the
porch
and
waited
for
it

she
speaks
my
life
her
words
make
melancholy
my
sunshine
hides
from
you

writing
shitty
little
poems
in
the
sun
watching
the
kids
live
naked

the
heat
made
me
hot
my
skin
pink
my
throat
dry
I
began
to
sweat
some

I'd
love
to
get
lost
in
your
world
Lou
Ford
but
it'd
be
the
death
of
me

I
get
my
inspiration
from
inspiration
herself
oh
she's
a
lady

she
wrote
today
is
made
of
yesterday
and
that's
an
absolute
son

I
need
attention
that
sometimes
he
can't
give
me
I
hate
that
hole

I
love
peonies
ranunculus
but
I
bet
he
doesn't
know
it

I
was
feeling
high
my
thoughts
were
vague
the
air
chilly
I
sat
smoking

it
was
a
spring
day
that
felt
like
fall
so
I
played
the
Amy
Winehouse

the
sky's
expanding
always
in
my
dreams
I'm
staying
saying
goodbye

I
stood
back
from
the
people
away
from
the
crowd
I
wanted
nothing

when
he
died
he
was
so
cold
because
he'd
been
in
a
refrigerator

he
had
plans
he
had
a
couple
things
to
do
but
before
that
he
died

she
wished
on
birthday
candles
and
shooting
stars
and
dandelion
seeds

tell
me
which
are
you
the
moon
when
it's
waxing
or
the
moon
when
it's
waning

the
rose
comes
every
spring
it
follows
me
through
autumm
winter
it
sleeps

the 

roses 

stood 

tall 

and 

soft 

against 

what 

some 

would 

call 

a 

leaden 

sky 

I
imagined
the
sun
behind
him
cutoffs
no
shirt
on
a
lawn
chair

now
that
I've
seen
the
bush
tit's
nest
I
see
the
tree
sway
in
a
different
way

the
tall
woman
had
orange
hair
not
red
long
straight
very
very
orange
hair

losing
faith
is
slow
and
painful
she
said
it
was
true
because
I
knew

I'd
waited
for
him
to
speak
to
me
when
he
did
I'd
nothing
to
say

I
cry
when
I
hear
Oh
Darling
and
then
I
want
to
make
love
to
him

the
cat
likes
to
stare
out
the
window
we're
quite
similar
in
that
way

I
wouldn't
say
it
was
haunting
the
ghost
just
likes
to
take
her
tea
at
one

I
was
a
good
housewife
today
my
dear
she
told
him
over
the
phone

when
he's
gone
I
wear
his
shirts
but
I
don't
sleep
on
his
side
of
the
bed

she'd
run
wildly
into
the
forest
while
he
stopped
to
look
for
a
trail

I
said
look
at
the
moon!
he
didn't
I
said
look
at
the
MOON!!
he
said
oh

I
snuggled
up
pillows
behind
me
blanket
on
top
book
in
my
hand

he
swore
he
didn't
have
a
gun
but
indeed
in
fact
he
did
have
one

maybe
he
hadn't
seen
me
or
maybe
he'd
just
averted
his
eyes

I
want
to
read
my
book
Life
Among
the
Savages
but
I'm
living
it

I
was
half
asleep
when
he
kissed
me
with
his
mustache
I
woke
in
dreams

I
hadn't
any
pencil
or
pen
so
I
wrote
the
poem
in
crayon

it's
always
just
before
dusk
when
I
ache
the
most
the
land
hot
and
bright

oh
dearest
in
heaven
the
way
he
touched
me
his
flat
palms
on
my
breasts

she
slept
on
my
chest
and
I
thought
as
I
smelled
her
hair
I'll
forget
this

once
upon
a
time
there
was
a
mother
and
her
two
young
daughters

we
kept
time
with
the
train
not
a
race
like
old
friends
on
a
journey

the
bell
rang
all
at
once
the
tossed
ball
was
left
the
playground
was
sullen