I know that looking into the past is not much popular and in some rooms made fun of....but look what can be found in our archives and what it does for us today. Ms. Sexton was a giant....we should all have her grace and diction. It is good to be reminded....to be humbled....to be fucked up. I belong to a tribe called Hornet. How ironc to be born a man and live in todays world and stand out and be struck down when called for. You dont think I am talking about me do you.
HORNET
A red-hot needle
hangs out of him, he steers by it
as if it were a rudder, he
would get in the house any way he could
and then he would bounce from window
to ceiling, buzzing and looking for you.
Do not sleep for he is there wrapped in the curtain.
Do not sleep for he is there under the shelf.
Do not sleep for he wants to sew up your skin,
he want to leap into your body like a hammer
with a nail, do not sleep he wants to get into
your nose and make a transplant, he wants do not
sleep he wants to bury your fur and make
a nest of knives, he wants to slide under your
fingernail and push in a splinter, do not sleep
he wants to climb out of the toilet when you sit on it
and make a home in the embarrassed hair do not sleep
he wants you to walk into him as into a dark fire.
Anne Sexton
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment