"Angels of the love affair, do you know that other, 
the dark one, that other me?" 

1. ANGEL OF FIRE AND GENITALS 

Angel of fire and genitals, do you know slime, 
that green mama who first forced me to sing, 
who put me first in the latrine, that pantomime 
of brown where I was beggar and she was king? 
I said, "The devil is down that festering hole." 
Then he bit me in the buttocks and took over my soul. 
Fire woman, you of the ancient flame, you 
of the Bunsen burner, you of the candle, 
you of the blast furnace, you of the barbecue, 
you of the fierce solar energy, Mademoiselle, 
take some ice, take come snow, take a month of rain 
and you would gutter in the dark, cracking up your brain. 

Mother of fire, let me stand at your devouring gate 
as the sun dies in your arms and you loosen it's terrible weight. 



2. ANGEL OF CLEAN SHEETS 

Angel of clean sheets, do you know bedbugs? 
Once in the madhouse they came like specks of cinnamon 
as I lay in a choral cave of drugs, 
as old as a dog, as quiet as a skeleton. 
Little bits of dried blood. One hundred marks 
upon the sheet. One hundred kisses in the dark. 
White sheets smelling of soap and Clorox 
have nothing to do with this night of soil, 
nothing to do with barred windows and multiple locks 
and all the webbing in the bed, the ultimate recoil. 
I have slept in silk and in red and in black. 
I have slept on sand and, on fall night, a haystack. 

I have known a crib. I have known the tuck-in of a child 
but inside my hair waits the night I was defiled. 



3. ANGEL OF FLIGHT AND SLEIGH BELLS 

Angel of flight and sleigh bells, do you know paralysis, 
that ether house where your arms and legs are cement? 
You are as still as a yardstick. You have a doll's kiss. 
The brain whirls in a fit. The brain is not evident. 
I have gone to that same place without a germ or a stroke. 
A little solo act--that lady with the brain that broke. 

In this fashion I have become a tree. 
I have become a vase you can pick up or drop at will, 
inanimate at last. What unusual luck! My body 
passively resisting. Part of the leftovers. Part of the kill. 
Angels of flight, you soarer, you flapper, you floater, 
you gull that grows out of my back in the drreams I prefer, 

stay near. But give me the totem. Give me the shut eye 
where I stand in stone shoes as the world's bicycle goes by. 



4. ANGEL OF HOPE AND CALENDARS 

Angel of hope and calendars, do you know despair? 
That hole I crawl into with a box of Kleenex, 
that hole where the fire woman is tied to her chair, 
that hole where leather men are wringing their necks, 
where the sea has turned into a pond of urine. 
There is no place to wash and no marine beings to stir in. 

In this hole your mother is crying out each day. 
Your father is eating cake and digging her grave. 
In this hole your baby is strangling. Your mouth is clay. 
Your eyes are made of glass. They break. You are not brave. 
You are alone like a dog in a kennel. Your hands 
break out in boils. Your arms are cut and bound by bands 

of wire. Your voice is out there. Your voice is strange. 
There are no prayers here. Here there is no change. 



5. ANGEL OF BLIZZARDS AND BLACKOUTS 

Angle of blizzards and blackouts, do you know raspberries, 
those rubies that sat in the gree of my grandfather's garden? 
You of the snow tires, you of the sugary wings, you freeze 
me out. Leet me crawl through the patch. Let me be ten. 
Let me pick those sweet kisses, thief that I was, 
as the sea on my left slapped its applause. 

Only my grandfather was allowed there. Or the maid 
who came with a scullery pan to pick for breakfast. 
She of the rols that floated in the air, she of the inlaid 
woodwork all greasy with lemon, she of the feather and dust, 
not I. Nonetheless I came sneaking across the salt lawn 
in bare feet and jumping-jack pajamas in the spongy dawn. 

Oh Angel of the blizzard and blackout, Madam white face, 
take me back to that red mouth, that July 21st place. 



6. ANGEL OF BEACH HOUSES AND PICNICS 

Angel of beach houses and picnics, do you know solitaire? 
Fifty-two reds and blacks and only myslef to blame. 
My blood buzzes like a hornet's nest. I sit in a kitchen chair 
at a table set for one. The silverware is the same 
and the glass and the sugar bowl. I hear my lungs fill and expel 
as in an operation. But I have no one left to tell. 

Once I was a couple. I was my own king and queen 
with cheese and bread and roseacute on the rocks of Rockport. 
Once I sunbathed in the buff, all brown and lean, 
watching the toy sloops go by, holding court 
for busloads of tourists. Once I called breakfast the sexiest 
meal of the day. Once I invited arrest 

at the peace march in Washington. Once I was young and bold 
and left hundreds of unmatched people out in the cold. 

 
des "anges de la liaison amoureuse, tu sais qu'autre, le foncé, cet 
autre je?" 

1. ANGE DU FEU ET DES PARTIES GÉNITALES 

Ange du feu et des parties génitales, connais-tu la boue, que la 
maman verte qui m'a forcé la première fois à chanter, qui m'a mis 
d'abord dans le latrine, cette pantomime de brun où j'étais mendiant 
et d'elle était roi ? J'ai dit, "le diable est vers le bas que trou 
s'infectant." Alors il m'a mordu dans les fesses et a assuré mon 
âme. Mettre le feu à la femme, tu de la flamme antique, tu du 
brûleur de Bunsen, tu de la bougie, tu du haut fourneau, tu du 
barbecue, tu de l'énergie solaire féroce, mademoiselle, prendre de 
la glace, prendre la neige venue, prendre un mois de pluie et tu 
gouttière dans le foncé, fendant vers le haut de votre cerveau. 

La mère du feu, m'a laissé me tenir à votre porte dévorante comme 
matrices du soleil dans vos bras et toi la détachent est poids 
terrible. 



2. ANGE DES FEUILLES PROPRES 

Ange des feuilles propres, connais-tu des bedbugs ? Une fois dans la 
maison de fous ils sont venus comme des points de cannelle comme je 
m'étends dans une caverne chorale des drogues, aussi vieux comme 
chien, aussi tranquille comme squelette. Petits peu de sang 
desséché. Cent marks sur la feuille. Cent baisers dans l'obscurité. 
Sentir blanc de feuilles du savon et de Clorox n'ont rien à faire 
avec cette nuit de sol, de rien à de faire avec les fenêtres 
barrées et de serrures multiples et de toute la sangle dans le lit, 
le recul final. J'ai dormi en en soie et dans le rouge et dans le 
noir. J'ai dormi sur le sable et, la nuit de chute, une meule de foin. 

J'ai connu une huche. J'ai su remplier-dans d'un enfant mais à 
l'intérieur de mes attentes de cheveux la nuit où j'ai été 
défilé. 



3. ANGE DE VOL ET DE SLEIGH BELLS 

Ange des cloches de vol et de sleigh, sais-tu la paralysie, cette 
maison d'éther où vos bras et jambes sont ciment ? Tu es aussi 
toujours qu'une mesure. Tu as le baiser d'une poupée. Le cerveau 
tourbillonne dans un ajustement. Le cerveau n'est pas évident. Je 
suis allé à cet même endroit sans germe ou course. Acte solo -- 
cette dame avec le cerveau qui s'est cassé. 

De cette fa4con je suis devenu un arbre. Je suis devenu un vase que tu 
peus prendre ou baisse à la volonté, inanimée enfin. Quelle chance 
peu commune ! Mon corps résistant passivement. Une partie des restes. 
Une partie de la mise à mort. Des anges de vol, tu soarer, tu 
aileron, tu vagabond, tu triches qui se développe hors de mon dos 
dans les drreams que je préfère, 

séjour près. Mais me donner le totem.  me donner l'oeil fermé où 
je me tiens dans des chaussures en pierre pendant que la bicyclette du 
monde va près. 



4. ANGE D'ESPOIR ET DE CALENDRIERS 

Ange d'espoir et de calendriers, sais-tu le désespoir ? Ce trou je 
rampe dans avec une boîte de kleenex, ce trou où la femme du feu est 
attachée à sa chaise, qui trouent où les hommes en cuir extorquent 
leurs cous, où la mer s'est transformée en étang d'urine. Il n'y a 
aucun endroit à laver et aucuns êtres marins à incorporer. 

En ce trou votre mère pleure hors de chaque jour. Votre père mange 
le gâteau et creuse sa tombe. En ce trou votre bébé étrangle. 
Votre bouche est argile. Vos yeux sont faits de verre. Ils se cassent. 
Tu n'es pas courageux. Tu es seul comme un chien dans un chenil. Vos 
mains éclatent dans les ébullitions. Vos bras sont coupés et liés 
par des bandes 

du fil. Votre voix est dehors là. Votre voix est étrange. Il n'y a 
aucune prière ici. Ici il n'y a aucun changement. 



5. ANGE DES TEMPÊTES DE NEIGE ET DES ARRÊTS TOTALS 

Angle des tempêtes de neige et des arrêts totals, connais-tu des 
framboises, ces rubis qui se sont reposés dans le gree du jardin de 
mon grand-père ? Tu de la neige fatigue, tu des ailes sucrées, tu me 
gèles dehors. Leet je rampement par la pièce rapportée. Me laisser 
être dix. Me laisser sélectionner ces baisers doux, voleur que 
j'étais, comme mer sur ma gauche a giflé ses applaudissements. 

Seulement on a permis là mon grand-père. Ou la bonne qui est venue 
avec une casserole de scullery pour sélectionner pour le petit 
déjeuner. Elle des rols qui ont flotté dans le ciel, elle du boisage 
marqueté tout graisseux avec le citron, elle de la plume et la 
poussière, pas I. Nonetheless I sont venues partant furtivement à 
travers la pelouse de sel dans les pieds et des pyjamas nus de 
sauter-cric dans l'aube spongieuse. 

L'ange d'Oh de la tempête de neige et de l'arrêt total, visage blanc 
de Madame, me rappellent cette bouche rouge, cet du 21 endroit 
juillet. 



6. ANGE DES CHAMBRES DE PLAGE ET DES PIQUE-NIQUES 

Ange des maisons de plage et des pique-niques, connais-tu le solitaire 
? Rouges de Fifty-two et noirs et seulement myslef au blâme. Mes 
bourdonnements de sang aiment le nid d'un frelon. Je m'assieds dans 
une chaise de cuisine à une table mise pour une. L'argenterie est la 
même et le verre et le bol de sucre. J'entends mes poumons compléter 
et expulser comme une opération. Mais je n'ai unique gauche à le 
dire. 

Une fois que j'étais un couple. J'étais mon propres roi et reine 
avec du fromage et le pain et le roseacute sur les roches de Rockport. 
Une fois que je sunbathed dans le cuir épais, tous brun et maigre, 
observant les sloops de jouet aller près, en tenant la cour pour des 
busloads des touristes. Une fois que j'appelais le petit déjeuner le 
repas le plus sexy du jour. Une fois que j'invitais 
l'arrestation 

à la paix marcher à Washington. Une fois que j'étais jeune et les 
centaines "bold" et gauches d'inégalé peuplent dehors dans le froid. 

 
"Engel der Liebeangelegenheit, wissen Sie, daß anderes, das dunkle, 
dieses anderes ich?" 

1. ENGEL DES FEUERS UND DER GENITALS 

Engel des Feuers und der Genitals, kennen Sie Schlamm, den grüne 
Mutter, die mich zuerst zwang zu singen, der mich zuerst in den 
Latrine einsetzte, diese Pantomime des Brauns, in dem ich Bettler war 
und sie König war? Ich sagte, "der Teufel ist unten, daß verwesende 
Bohrung." Dann biß er mich in den Hinterteilen und übernahm meine 
Seele. Frau, Sie der alten Flamme, Sie des Bunsenbrenners, Sie der 
Kerze, Sie des Hochofens, Sie des Grills, Sie der heftigen 
Solarenergie, Fräulein feuern, etwas Eis nehmen, gekommenen Schnee 
nehmen, einen Monat des Regens dauern und Sie wurden Gosse im Dunklen 
und knackten herauf Ihr Gehirn. 

Mutter des Feuers, ließ mich an Ihrem verschlingenden Gatter als die 
Sonnewürfel in Ihren Armen und in Ihnen stehen lösen es ist 
schreckliches Gewicht. 



2. ENGEL DER SAUBEREN BLÄTTER 

Engel der sauberen Blätter, kennen Sie bedbugs? Einmal im madhouse 
kamen sie wie die Flecke des Zimts, wie ich in eine choral Höhle der 
Drogen lege, so alt wie ein Hund, so auf stille Art wie ein Skelett. 
Kleine Spitzen des getrockneten Bluts. Hundert Markierungen nach dem 
Blatt. Hundert Küsse in der Dunkelheit. Das weiße Blattriechen der 
Seife und des Clorox haben nichts, mit dieser Nacht des Bodens, des 
nichts, mit abgehaltenen Fenstern zu tun und der mehrfachen 
Verriegelungen und alles gewebten Materials im Bett, der entscheidende 
Rückzug zu tun. Ich habe in silk und im Rot und im Schwarzen 
geschlafen. Ich habe auf Sand und, auf Fallnacht, einem Heuschober 
geschlafen. 

Ich habe eine Krippe gekannt. Ich habe verstauen-in einem Kind 
gekannt, aber innerhalb meiner Haarwartezeiten die Nacht, die ich 
defiled. 



3. ENGEL DES FLUGES UND DES SLEIGH BELL 

Engel der Flug- und sleighglocken, kennen Sie Paralyse, dieses 
Ätherhaus, in der Ihre Arme und Beine Kleber sind? Sie sind so noch 
wie ein Maßstock. Sie haben den Kuß einer Puppe. Das Gehirn whirls 
in einen Sitz. Das Gehirn ist nicht offensichtlich. Ich bin zu diesem 
gleichen Platz ohne eine Mikrobe oder einen Anschlag gegangen. Wenig 
solo Tat -- diese Dame mit dem Gehirn, das brach. 

Auf diese Weise bin ich ein Baum geworden. Ich bin ein Vase, 
den Sie oder Tropfen am Willen aufheben können, der schließlich 
leblos ist geworden. Welches ungewöhnliches Glück! Mein passiv 
widerstehender Körper. Teil der Reste. Teil der Tötung. Engel des 
Fluges, betrügen Sie soarer, Sie Prallplatte, Sie Landstreicher, Sie, 
das aus meiner Rückseite in den drreams heraus wächst, die, ich 
bevorzuge, 

Aufenthalt nahe. Aber mir das totem geben. Mir das geschlossene Auge 
geben, in dem ich in den Steinschuhen stehe, während das Fahrrad der 
Welt vorbei geht. 



4. ENGEL DER HOFFNUNG UND DER KALENDER 

Engel der Hoffnung und der Kalender, kennen Sie Verzweiflung? Diese 
Bohrung krieche ich in mit einen Kasten von Kleenex, diese Bohrung, in 
dem die Feuerfrau an ihren Stuhl gebunden wird, das durchlöchern, wo 
lederne Männer ihre Ansätze auspressen, wohin das Meer zu einen 
Teich des Urins gemacht hat. Es gibt keinen Platz, zum zu waschen und 
keine Marinewesen, zum sich innen zu rühren. 

In dieser Bohrung schreit Ihre Mutter aus jedem Tag. Ihr Vater ißt 
Kuchen und gräbt ihr Grab. In dieser Bohrung schnürt Ihr Baby ein. 
Ihre Öffnung ist Lehm. Ihre Augen werden vom Glas gebildet. Sie 
brechen. Sie sind nicht tapfer. Sie sind wie ein Hund in einer 
Hundehütte allein. Ihre Hände brechen in den Blutgeschwüren aus. 
Ihre Arme werden durch Bänder geschnitten und gesprungen 

von der Leitung. Ihre Stimme ist heraus dort. Ihre Stimme ist 
merkwürdig. Es gibt keine Gebete hier. Hier gibt es keine Änderung. 



5. ENGEL DER BLIZZARDE UND DER VERDUNKELUNGEN 

Winkel der Blizzarde und der Verdunkelungen, kennen Sie Himbeeren, 
jene Rubine, die im gree des Gartens meines Großvaters sassen? Sie 
des Schnees ermüden, Sie der zuckerhaltigen Flügel, Sie einfrieren 
mich heraus. Leet ich Schleichen durch den Flecken. Mich 10 sein 
lassen. Mich jene süssen Küsse, Dieb, daß ich war, als das Meer auf 
meinem links auswählen lassen schlug seinen Applaus. 

Nur mein Großvater wurde dort erlaubt. Oder das Mädchen, das mit 
einer Scullerywanne kam, zum Frühstück auszuwählen. Sie der rols, 
die in die Luft schwammen, sie der eingelegten Holzarbeit, die mit 
Zitrone ganz schmierig ist, sie der Feder und Staub, nicht I. 
Nonetheless I kamen, schleichend über dem Salzrasen in den bloßen 
Füßen und in den Springensteckfassung Pyjamas in der schwammigen 
Dämmerung. 

OH- Engel des Blizzards und der Verdunkelung, Frau weißes Gesicht, 
nehmen mich zurück zu dieser roten Öffnung, dieser Juli 21. Platz. 



6. ENGEL DER STRAND-HÄUSER UND DER PICKNICKS 

Engel der Strandhäuser und der Picknicks, kennen Sie solitaire? 
Fifty-two Rottöne und Schwarze und nur myslef zur Schuld. Mein 
Blutsummen mag das Nest einer Hornisse. Ich sitze in einem Küchestuhl 
an einem Tisch, der für einen eingestellt wird. Das Tafelsilber 
ist dasselbe und das Glas und die Zuckerschüssel. Ich höre meine 
Lungen, wie einen Betrieb auszufüllen und wegzutreiben. Aber ich habe 
keins links, zum zu sagen. 

Sobald ich ein Paar war. Ich war mein eigener König und Königin mit 
Käse und Brot und roseacute auf den Felsen von Rockport. Sobald ich 
im Büffelleder, in allem Braun und im Mageren sunbathed, die 
Spielzeug sloops aufpassend vorbei gehen und Gericht für busloads der 
Touristen halten. Sobald ich Frühstück die reizvollste Mahlzeit des 
Tages nannte. Sobald ich Anhalten einlud 

am Frieden in Washington marschieren. Sobald ich jung war und fette 
und linke Hunderte von nicht angepaßtem bevölkeren heraus in der 
Kälte. 

 
"angels do caso do amor, você sabe que outro, escuro, esse outro eu?" 

1. ANGEL DO FOGO E DOS GENITALS 

Angel do fogo e dos genitals, você sabe o slime, que o mama verde que 
me forçou primeiramente a cantar, que me pôs primeiramente no 
latrine, esse pantomime do marrom onde eu era pedinte e da ela era 
rei? Eu disse, "o diabo é para baixo que furo festering." Então 
mordeu-me nos buttocks e f4-lo exame sobre de minha alma. Atear fogo 
à mulher, você da flama antiga, você do queimador de Bunsen, você 
da vela, você do alto-forno, você do barbecue, você da energia 
solar feroz, mademoiselle, fazer exame de algum gelo, fazer exame da 
neve vinda, fazer exame de um mês da chuva e você  calha no escuro, 
rachando acima de seu cérebro. 

A mãe do fogo, deixou-me estar em sua porta devouring como os dados 
do sol em no seus braços e você afrouxa-a está a um peso terrível. 



2. ANGEL DE FOLHAS LIMPAS 

Angel de folhas limpas, você sabe bedbugs? Uma vez no madhouse vieram 
como os specks da canela como eu coloco em uma caverna choral das 
drogas, tão velhos quanto um cão, tão quiet quanto um esqueleto. 
Bocados pequenos do sangue secado. Cem marcas em cima da folha. Cem 
beijos na obscuridade. Cheirar branco das folhas do sabão e do Clorox 
não tem nada fazer com esta noite de solo, de nada fazer com janelas 
barradas e de fechamentos múltiplos e de todo o webbing na cama, o 
recoil final. Eu dormi em de seda e no vermelho e no preto. Eu dormi 
na areia e, na noite da queda, em um haystack. 

Eu soube um crib. Eu soube dobr- de uma criança mas dentro de minhas 
esperas do cabelo a noite onde eu defiled. 



3. ANGEL DO VÔO E DO SLEIGH BELS 

Angel de sinos do vôo e do sleigh, você sabe o paralysis, essa casa 
do ether onde seus braços e pés são cimento? Você é tão ainda 
quanto um yardstick. Você tem o beijo de uma boneca. O cérebro gira 
em um ajuste. O cérebro não é evidente. Eu fui a esse mesmo lugar 
sem um germe ou um curso. Um pouco ato de solo -- essa senhora com o 
cérebro que quebrou. 

Nesta forma eu transformei-me uma árvore. Eu transformei-me um vaso 
que você pode escolher acima ou gota na vontade, inanimate no 
último. Que sorte incomun! Meu corpo que resiste passiva. Parte dos 
leftovers. Parte da matança. Angels do vôo, você soarer, você 
flapper, você vagabundo, você gull que cresce fora de minha parte 
traseira nos drreams que eu prefiro, 

estada próximo. Mas dar-me o totem. Dar-me o olho fechado onde eu 
estou nas sapatas de pedra enquanto a bicicleta do mundo vai perto. 



4. ANGEL DA ESPERANÇA E DOS CALENDÁRIOS 

Angel da esperança e dos calendários, você sabe o desespero? Esse 
furo eu rastejo com em uma caixa do kleenex, esse furo onde a mulher 
do fogo seja amarrada a sua cadeira, que fura onde os homens de couro 
wringing suas gargantas, aonde o mar girou em uma lagoa do urine. Não 
há nenhum lugar a lavar-se e nenhuns seres marinhos a agitar dentro. 

Neste furo sua mãe está gritando para fora de cada dia. Seu pai 
está comendo o bolo e está escavando sua sepultura. Neste furo seu 
bebê está estrangulando. Sua boca é argila. Seus olhos são feitos 
do vidro. Quebram. Você não é bravo. Você está sozinho como um 
cão em um kennel. Suas mãos quebram para fora nas fervuras. Seus 
braços são cortados e limitados por faixas 

do fio. Sua voz está para fora lá. Sua voz é estranha. Não há 
nenhum prayers aqui. Aqui não há nenhuma mudança. 



5. ANGEL DOS BLIZZARDS E DOS ESCURECIMENTOS 

Ângulo dos blizzards e dos escurecimentos, você sabe raspberries, 
aqueles rubies que se sentaram no gree do jardim do meu avô? Você da 
neve cansa-se, você das asas sugary, você congela-me para fora. Leet 
mim rastejamento através do remendo. Deixar-me ser dez. Deixar-me 
escolher aqueles beijos doces, ladrão que eu era, como o mar em minha 
esquerda golpeou seu aplauso. 

Somente foi permitido a meu avô lá. Ou a empregada doméstica que 
veio com uma bandeja do scullery escolher para o pequeno almoço. Dos 
rols que flutuaram no ar, do woodwork embutido toda gorduroso com 
limão, da pena e a poeira, não I. Nonetheless Eu vieram sneaking 
através do gramado de sal nos pés e em pajamas desencapados do 
salt-jaque no alvorecer esponjoso. 

O angel do Oh do blizzard e do escurecimento, cara branca da senhora, 
faz exame de me para trás a essa boca vermelha, esse lugar julho de 
21o. 



6. ANGEL DE CASAS DE PRAIA E DE PIQUENIQUES 

Angel de casas de praia e de piqueniques, você sabe o solitaire? 
Vermelhos de Fifty-two e pretos e somente myslef à culpa. Meus 
zumbidos do sangue gostam do ninho de um hornet. Eu sento-me em uma 
cadeira da cozinha em uma tabela ajustada para uma. O silverware é o 
mesmo e o vidro e a bacia do açúcar. Eu ouço meus pulmões 
encher-se e expelir como em uma operação. Mas eu tenho no.one 
esquerda a dizer. 

Uma vez que eu era um par. Eu era meus próprios rei e rainha com 
queijo e pão e roseacute nas rochas de Rockport. Uma vez que eu 
sunbathed no lustre, em todo o marrom e em lean, prestando atenção 
aos sloops do brinquedo ir perto, prendendo a corte para busloads dos 
turistas. Uma vez que eu chamei o pequeno almoço a refeição a mais 
sexiest do dia. Uma vez que eu convidei a apreensão 

na paz marchar em Washington. Uma vez que eu era novo e as centenas 
bold(realce) e esquerdas de unmatched povoam para fora no frio. 

 
los "ángeles del asunto del amor, usted sabe que otro, el oscuro, ese 
otro yo?" 

1. ÁNGEL DEL FUEGO Y DE LOS ÓRGANOS GENITALES 

¿Ángel del fuego y de los órganos genitales, usted sabe el limo, que 
el mama verde que primero me forzó cantar, que me puso primero en la 
letrina, ese pantomime del marrón donde estaba mendigo y de la ella 
era rey? Dije, "el diablo es abajo que agujero festering." Después 
él me mordió en las nalgas y asumió el control mi alma. Encender a 
mujer, usted de la llama antigua, usted de la hornilla de Bunsen, 
usted de la vela, usted del alto horno alto, usted de la barbacoa, 
usted de la energía solar feroz, señorita, tomar un poco de hielo, 
tomar la nieve venida, tomar un mes de la lluvia y usted  canal en el 
oscuro, agrietándose encima de su cerebro. 

La madre del fuego, me dejó estar parado en su puerta devouring como 
los dados del sol en sus brazos y usted la afloja es peso terrible. 



2. ÁNGEL DE HOJAS LIMPIAS 

¿Ángel de hojas limpias, usted sabe bedbugs? Una vez en el madhouse 
vinieron como las motas del cinamomo como pongo en una cueva coral de 
drogas, tan viejas como un perro, tan silenciosamente como un 
esqueleto. Pequeños pedacitos de la sangre secada. Cientos marcas 
sobre la hoja. Cientos besos en la obscuridad. El oler blanco de las 
hojas del jabón y de Clorox no tiene nada hacer con esta noche del 
suelo, nada de hacer con las ventanas barradas y de las cerraduras 
múltiples y de todas las correas en la cama, el último retroceso. He 
dormido en de seda y en rojo y en negro. He dormido en la arena y, el 
noche de la caída, un haystack. 

He sabido un pesebre. He sabido remeter-en de un niño pero dentro de 
mis esperas del pelo la noche que me profanaron. 



3. ÁNGEL DEL VUELO Y DE SLEIGH BELCES 

¿Ángel de las campanas del vuelo y del sleigh, usted sabe la 
parálisis, esa casa del éter donde están cemento sus brazos y 
piernas? Usted tan todavía está como un criterio. Usted tiene beso 
de una muñeca. El cerebro gira en un ajuste. El cerebro no es 
evidente. He ido a ese mismo lugar sin un germen o un movimiento. Un 
poco acto a solas -- esa señora con el cerebro que se rompió. 

En esta manera he hecho un árbol. He hecho un florero que usted puede 
tomar o gota en la voluntad, inanimada en el último. ¡Qué suerte 
inusual! Mi cuerpo que resiste pasivo. Parte de las sobras. Parte de 
la matanza. Los ángeles del vuelo, usted soarer, usted aleta, usted 
flotador, usted gull que crezca fuera de mi parte posteriora en los 
drreams que prefiero, 

estancia cerca. Pero darme el totem. Darme el ojo cerrado donde estoy 
parado en los zapatos de piedra mientras que va la bicicleta del mundo 
cerca. 



4. ÁNGEL DE LA ESPERANZA Y DE LOS CALENDARIOS 

¿Ángel de la esperanza y de los calendarios, usted sabe la 
desesperación? Ese agujero me arrastro en con una caja del kleenex, 
ese agujero donde atan a la mujer del fuego a su silla, que agujerea 
donde los hombres de cuero están sacando sus cuellos, adonde el mar 
ha dado vuelta en una charca de la orina. No hay lugar a lavarse y 
ningunos seres marinas a revolver adentro. 

En este agujero su madre está gritando fuera de cada día. Su padre 
está comiendo la torta y está cavando su sepulcro. En este agujero 
su bebé está estrangulando. Su boca es arcilla. Sus ojos se hacen 
del cristal. Se rompen. Usted no es valiente. Usted está solo como un 
perro en una perrera. Sus manos explotan en ebulliciones. Sus brazos 
son cortados y limitados por las vendas 

del alambre. Su voz está hacia fuera allí. Su voz es extraña. No 
hay rezos aquí. Aquí no hay cambio. 



5. ÁNGEL DE VENTISCAS Y DE APAGONES 

¿Ángulo de ventiscas y de apagones, usted sabe las frambuesas, esos 
rubíes que se sentaron en el gree del jardín de mi abuelo? Usted de 
la nieve se cansa, usted de las alas azucaradas, usted me congela 
hacia fuera. Leet yo arrastre a través del remiendo. Dejarme ser 
diez. Dejarme escoger esos besos dulces, ladrón que era, como el mar 
en mi izquierda dio una palmada a su aplauso. 

Solamente se permitió a mi abuelo allí. O la criada que vino con una 
cacerola del fregadero escoger para el desayuno. Ella de los rols que 
flotaron en el aire, ella de la artesanía en madera embutida todo 
grasienta con el limón, ella de la pluma y el polvo, no I. 
Nonetheless I vinieron haciendo furtivamente a través del césped de 
la sal en pies y pijamas pelados del saltar-gato en el amanecer 
esponjoso. 

El ángel del Oh de la ventisca y del apagón, cara blanca de la 
señora, me toma de nuevo a esa boca roja, ese lugar de julio del 21. 



6. ÁNGEL DE LAS CASAS DE PLAYA Y DE LAS COMIDAS CAMPESTRES 

¿Ángel de las casas de playa y de las comidas campestres, usted sabe 
el solitaire? Rojos de Fifty-two y negros y solamente myslef a la 
culpa. Mis zumbidos de la sangre tienen gusto de la jerarquía de un 
hornet. Me siento en una silla de la cocina en una tabla fijada para 
una. Los cubiertos son iguales y el cristal y el tazón de fuente del 
azúcar. Oigo mis pulmones completar y expeler como una operación. 
Pero tengo nadie izquierda a decir. 

Una vez que fuera un par. Era mi propio rey y reina con queso y pan y 
roseacute en las rocas de Rockport. Una vez que sunbathed en la piel 
de ante, todo el marrón y la inclinación, mirando los sloops del 
juguete ir cerca, llevando a cabo la corte para los busloads de 
turistas. Una vez que llamara el desayuno el menú del día más 
atractivo. Una vez que invitara la detención 

en la paz marchar en Washington. Una vez que fuera joven y los 
centenares en negrilla e izquierdos de incomparable pueblan hacia 
fuera en el frío. 

(These are public search results on the terms: 'Anne Sexton: Angels Of The Love Affair poem')

• Music stand lights – What are some <b>love poems</b> by <b>Anne Sexton</b> <b>...</b> by admin (2013/05/15 04:36)

  Four more poems in this set of angels. Read them all: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/angels-of-the-love-affair/. Best luck to you! Anne Sexton's poetry is very dark, sometimes, but beautiful! LIGHT BRIGHT FOREVER!
• Solar Gutter Light | Benefits Of Solar Energy by unknown (2013/05/13 04:00)

  Four more poems in this set of angels. Read them all: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/angels-of-the-love-affair/. Best luck to you! Anne Sexton's poetry is very dark, sometimes, but beautiful! LIGHT BRIGHT FOREVER! Reply ...
• Translations: Sonata Paliulyte Embraces Emily Dickenson <b>...</b> by seretta (2013/05/02 16:29)

  I translated the cycle of poems, “Angels of The Love Affair”, by the American poet, Anne Sexton (1928-1974) from English into Lithuanian. The tragic daily situations – loneliness, the madhouse, despair – meshes here into ...
• On breakfast, the sexiest meal of the day | Discursus by Jess (2013/02/27 20:29)

  In this way, I buck the trend described by Seb Emina in this piece in The Guardian about breakfast, “the sexiest meal of the day,” as Anne Sexton called it in “Angels of the Love Affair.” Breakfast is the most habitual meal of the day, a routine so key to ... Jess, give me your email, if you want, and I”ll send you a copy of an unpublished poem of mine that's dedicated to Raymond Carver, that revolves around a description of a breakfast. You can see my direct email, right?
• In Which We Embark On An Unsettling Endeavor - Home - This <b>...</b> by Alex (2012/12/26 07:10)

  The two poets met at a seminar in 1958, ten years after Alfred Sexton II, who called himself “Kayo,” turned Anne's pen name from the forgettable Harvey into the Sexton that now accompanies almost any image of a witch in poetry. Anne and Sylvia ... Perhaps one of the things Anne and Sylvia could not absorb from each other was the idea of love, the lack of it fueling the stories Sylvia's poems and the overwhelming abundance of it spilling into Anne's words. Both men ...
• Morris Pearson Blog - <b>Anne Sexton</b>: The Complete <b>Poems</b> (Anne <b>...</b> by admin (2012/11/07 23:05)

  Angels Of The Love Affair: 6. Angel Of Beach Houses And Picn Anna Who Was Mad The Assassin August 17th. August 8th. The Author Of The Jesus Papers Speaks Baby Picture The Ballad Of The Lonely Masturbator Bat ...
• Coldfront » Dear Prudence: New & Selected <b>Poems</b> by mwilson (2012/06/06 09:17)

  ... movies, Barbie, the color pink, and Patty Duke–to his poetic heroes–Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, and James Schuyler–to his family, friends, and love life throughout his poetic career thus far. The poems run the gauntlet from ...
• Did <b>Anne Sexton&#39;s</b> Therapist Help Her <b>Poetry</b>? | Psychology Today by Susan K. Perry, Ph.D. (2012/04/12 16:32)

  sad angel. The tapes of poet Anne Sexton's lengthy therapy were first released by her psychiatrist to biographer Diane Middlebrook years after Sexton's suicide in 1974. Naturally, there was an uproar within and outside the ...
• Cigarettes And Whiskey And Wild, Wild Women <b>Poem Anne Sexton</b> <b>...</b> by love poems (2012/03/03 13:00)

  where none but the dolls, perfect and awful, / could be whispered to or laid down to die. / Now that I have written many words, / and let out so many loves, for so many, / and been altogether what I always was— / a woman of excess, of zeal and ...
• BIOGRAPHIES: <b>Anne Sexton</b> by Triunfo Arciniegas (2012/01/25 18:31)

  In her introduction to Anne Sexton's Complete Poems, the poet Maxine Kumin, who was enrolled with Sexton in the 1957 workshop and became her close friend, describes her belief that it was the writing of poetry that gave Sexton something to work towards and develop and thus ..... The "Angels of the Love Affair" invokes a religious rhetoric not new to her work, one she employs in more radical form to critique Christianity's central drama in "The Jesus Papers.
• The Kiss <b>Poem Anne Sexton Poems</b> by love poems (2011/08/07 22:00)

  You can see more famous poems by this author : Wanting To Die, Cigarettes And Whiskey And Wild, Wild Women, Admonitions To A Special Person, Angels Of The Love Affair, The Ballad Of The Lonely Masturbator, . Poems by Anne Sexton ...
• Her Kind <b>Poem Anne Sexton Poems</b> by love poems (2011/04/21 03:00)

  Also enjoy funny, love, friendship, family poems. You can see more famous poems by this author : The Kiss, Wanting To Die, Cigarettes And Whiskey And Wild, Wild Women, Admonitions To A Special Person, Angels Of The Love Affair, .
• Transformations , Fairytales by <b>Ann Sexton</b> | Poethead by poethead (2010/08/29 02:21)

  'I wanted to read or hear the narrative of someone else – a woman and a poet – who has gone here and been there.' Eavan Boland. Menu. Skip to content. Home · About ... The image which accompanies this short introduction to Ann Sexton's book Transformations is from that other mistress of the dark tale/fairy tale's pen, Angela Carter. The image is from the Neil Jordan produced movie, The ... Ann Sexton, Transformations · Angels of the Love Affair , Ann Sexton ...
• Much have I traveled in the realms of gold. - HOME of the RED BARON by Red Baron (2010/08/08 08:07)

  Well, as I wrote in the August 4 blog, Ms. Kiner distributed copies of a poem by Anne Sexton, a Pulitzer Prize winner, called "Angels of the Love Affair". Again, she is a member of a school of poets called "confessionalists" ...
• Q & A: What are some <b>love poems</b> by <b>Anne Sexton</b>? - True <b>Love</b> by admin (2010/07/13 11:32)

  Four other poems in this series of Engeln.Lesen them all: http : / / www.poemhunter.com / poem / angels-of-the-love-affair / Best luck into you! Anne Sexton's poetry is very dark at times, but beautiful! BRIGHT LIGHT FOREVER!
• kostis velonis: <b>Angels Of The Love Affair</b> by Kostis Velonis kωστησ βελωνησ (2010/06/24 02:00)

  Angels Of The Love Affair. "Angels of the love affair, do you know that other, the dark one, that other me?" 1. ANGEL OF FIRE AND GENITALS Angel of fire and genitals, do you know slime, that green mama who first forced me to sing, who put me first in the latrine, that pantomime .... 2011 “Melanchotopia”, Witte de With Contemporary Art Center, (Cur. by Nicolaus Schafhausen and Anne-Claire Schmitz) Rotterdam. www.wdw.nl. 18 Sept-October “Building the Stage”, ...
• A <b>Love Affair</b> That Ended Before it Started – <b>Poem</b> by Bruce <b>...</b> by brucewhealton (2010/03/14 22:38)

  A Love Affair That Ended Before it Started – Poem by Bruce Whealton. I'd like to introduce this poem with two quotes from Anne Sexton. From “Sylvia's Death,” by Anne Sexton: “(In Boston the dying ride in cabs, yes death ...
• Wanting To Die <b>Poem Anne Sexton Poems</b> by love poems (2010/03/05 23:22)

  You can see more famous poems by this author : Cigarettes And Whiskey And Wild, Wild Women, Admonitions To A Special Person, Angels Of The Love Affair, The Ballad Of The Lonely Masturbator, The Nude Swim, . Poems by Anne Sexton ...
• Patchwork <b>Poem</b> #3 ala <b>Anne Sexton</b> | jillypoet by jillypoet (2010/02/17 20:36)

  Probably my least favorite of my three Anne Sexton centos. Has to be the mood I am in. Though it could be my method. This time I used one poem, “Angels of the Love Affair,” which is broken into 6 sections. Instead of choosing ...
• Patchwork <b>Poem</b> #2 ala <b>Anne Sexton</b> | jillypoet by jillypoet (2010/02/16 20:11)

  I chose these three Sexton poems: “Man and Wife”; “Love Song”; and “Consorting With Angels”, because they seemed to speak from the same place of melancholy and longing. I tried to find pieces that resonated with a similar ...
• Moments of Being: <b>Poem</b>(s) o&#39;the Day: <b>Anne Sexton</b>, "For My Lover <b>...</b> by Jamie H. (2010/02/09 20:56)

  Poem(s) o'the Day: Anne Sexton, "For My Lover, Returning to His Wife," "The Ballad of the Lonely Masturbator". Two more from Sexton's Love Poems--one of my faves ("For My Lover"), and one that's just wonderfully striking ...
• Dark <b>Angel</b> | Of Long Walks and Coffee Breaks by joyceinheels (2009/10/27 09:39)

  'Angels of the love affair, do you know that other, the dark one, that other me?' -Anne Sexton. Oh angel of darkness, tell me how you ruin'd; blew this love to the wind. You blame my recklessness. I think you're in waiting ...
• Omss-<b>Poem</b>: Again and Again and Again (<b>Anne Sexton</b>) by Omss Group (2009/09/30 23:59)

  Anne Sexton You said the anger would come back just as the love did. I have a black look I do not like. It is a mask I try on. I migrate toward it and its frog sits on my lips and defecates. It is old. It is also a pauper. I have tried to keep it on a diet.
• Omss-<b>Poem</b>: 45 Mercy Street (<b>Anne Sexton</b>) by Omss Group (2009/09/30 23:59)

  In my dream, / drilling into the marrow / of my entire bone, / my real dream, / I'm walking up and down Beacon Hill / searching for a street sign - / namely MERCY STREET. / Not there. / I try the Back Bay. / Not there. / Not there. / And yet I know ...
• Omss-<b>Poem</b>: After Auschwitz (<b>Anne Sexton</b>) by Omss Group (2009/09/30 23:59)

  Anne Sexton Anger, as black as a hook, overtakes me. Each day, each Nazi took, at 8: 00 A.M., a baby and sauteed him for breakfast in his frying pan. And death looks on with a casual eye and picks at the dirt under his fingernail. Man is evil, ...
• Omss-<b>Poem</b>: A Curse Against Elegies (<b>Anne Sexton</b>) by Omss Group (2009/09/30 23:59)

  A Curse Against Elegies (Anne Sexton). Anne Sexton Oh, love, why do we argue like this? I am tired of all your pious talk. Also, I am tired of all the dead. They refuse to listen, so leave them alone. Take your foot out of the graveyard, they are ...
• Omss-<b>Poem</b>: <b>Angels of the Love Affair</b> (<b>Anne Sexton</b>) by Omss Group (2009/09/30 23:59)

  Angels of the love affair, do you know that other, / the dark one, that other me? ' / 1. ANGEL OF FIRE AND GENITALS / Angel of fire and genitals, do you know slime, / that green mama who first forced me to sing, / who put me first in the latrine, ...
• Omss-<b>Poem</b>: August 17th (<b>Anne Sexton</b>) by Omss Group (2009/09/30 23:59)

  August 17th (Anne Sexton). Anne Sexton Good for visiting hospitals or charitable work. Take some time to attend to your health. Surely I will be disquieted by the hospital, that body zone- bodies wrapped in elastic bands, bodies cased in wood ...
• Omss-<b>Poem</b>: The Short story of <b>Anne Sexton</b> by Omss Group (2009/09/30 23:59)

  Anne Sexton Biography: Sexton was born in Newton, Massachusetts, and spent most of her life near Boston. In 1945, Sexton began attending a boarding school, Rogers Hall, in Wayne, Michigan. For a time as a young woman, she modeled at ...
• Omss-<b>Poem</b>: And One For My Dame (<b>Anne Sexton</b>) by Omss Group (2009/09/30 23:59)

  my father was in love with maps / while the radio fought its battles with Nazis and Japs. / Except when he hid / in his bedroom on a three-day drunk, / he typed out complex itineraries, packed his trunk, / his matched luggage / and pocketed a ...
• Omss-<b>Poem</b>: Anna Who Was Mad (<b>Anne Sexton</b>) by Omss Group (2009/09/30 23:59)

  Anne Sexton Anna who was mad, I have a knife in my armpit. When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages. Am I some sort of infection? Did I make you go insane? Did I make the sounds go sour? Did I tell you to climb out the window? Forgive.
• Omss-<b>Poem</b>: An Obsessive Combination Of Onotological Inscape <b>...</b> by Omss Group (2009/09/18 03:34)

  An Obsessive Combination Of Onotological Inscape, Trickery And Love (Anne Sexton). Anne Sexton Busy, with an idea for a code, I write signals hurrying from left to right, or right to left, by obscure routes, for my own reasons; taking a word like ...
• Omss-<b>Poem</b>: Admonitions to a Special Person (<b>Anne Sexton</b>) by Omss Group (2009/09/18 03:28)

  Anne Sexton Watch out for power, for its avalanche can bury you, snow, snow, snow, smothering your mountain. Watch out for hate, it can open its mouth and you'll fling yourself out to eat off your leg, an instant leper. Watch out for friends, ... Love ? Be it man. Be it woman. It must be a wave you want to glide in on, give your body to it, give your laugh to it, give, when the gravelly sand takes you, your tears to the land. To love another is something like prayer and can't be planned, you just ...
• Do I Dare Disturb the Reader? - <b>Poetry</b> Foundation by Jason Guriel (2009/04/11 17:34)

  It can be the last poem in the book! On April 13, 2009 at 1:01 pm Annie Finch wrote: Anne Sexton's “Angels of the Love Affair”. Here are a few excerpts: 'Angels of the love affair, do you know that other, the dark one, that other ...
• Artistic Fundamentals: Gabriel Judet-Weinshel | Open Loop Press by admin (2008/09/24 00:00)

  GJW: I stole that from Anne Sexton — I think there's a line from an Anne Sexton poem where she says “I'm deep in the ink of you” and it always… I read it when I was seventeen, sort of in the midst of the first time I fell in love… “there's a line ...
• <b>Angels of the Love Affair</b>,by <b>Ann Sexton</b> | Poethead by poethead (2008/08/02 14:18)

  'I wanted to read or hear the narrative of someone else – a woman and a poet – who has gone here and been there.' Eavan Boland. Menu. Skip to content. Home · About ... Angels of the Love Affair,by Ann Sexton. 'You Forgot to Kiss my Soul', Tracey Emin. 'Angels of the Love affair, do you know that other, the dark one, that other me?' 1. Angel of Fire and Genitals. Angel of fire and genitals, do you know slime, that green mam who forced me to sing, who put me first in ...
• ESSENTIALLY A SPY: The Black Art by <b>Anne Sexton</b> by Kate (2007/12/27 19:01)

  The Black Art by Anne Sexton. A woman who writes feels too much, those trances and portents! As if cycles and children and islands weren't enough; as if mourners and gossips and vegetables were never enough. She thinks she can warn the stars. A writer is ... Old sad poems. Some old writing for laughing or crying at. Some of it is mine and some of it is not. from Angels of the Love Affair by Anne Sexton. 3. ANGEL OF FLIGHT AND SLEIGH BELLS Angel of flight and ...
• The Butch Stroll: <b>Angels of the Love Affair</b> by Stroll (2006/01/14 15:17)

  So here's a poem that kind of honors this day. It is from "Angels of the Love Affair" which is really like four poems in one. This is the first section. ANGEL OF FIRE AND GENITALS (Anne Sexton) Angel of fire and genitals, do you ...

(These are public search results on the terms: 'Anne Sexton: Angels Of The Love Affair poem')