Her Kind | ||
| by Anne Sexton | ||
I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.
I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.
I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.
| ||
Friday, October 12, 2012
Anne Sexton and Her Kind
The Beauty of Lucid Dreaming on RADIOLAB on WNYC
In this podcast from Radiolab, a man confronts a bully, and frees himself from a recurring nightmare that's terrorized him for more than 20 years.
Wake Up and Dream - Radiolab
Wake Up and Dream - Radiolab
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