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Comment 4 of 9, added on October 26th, 2005 at 10:37 AM.
this is a very articulate poem. this lady is frickin crazy and if she isn,t
already she should burn in hell and get her asshole dominated by satan.
jared wagner from United States
Comment 3 of 9, added on October 19th, 2005 at 6:10 AM.
This poem caught my eye and ear -- lured me into its lurid teasing
innuendos with red images of roosters becoming "cocks" of the penile
persuasion; catchy driving rythm, action and words that stand in relief off
of the page with their very musical juxtaposition. The rise and fall, hard
to soft, and battle to peace images mirroring the sex act were particularly
successful. I do not know her work but want to read more. I wonder if it
is significant that it is written in the 70's -- the sexual, rousing
slightly naughtiness. It works for me -- but its weak parts were shown very
eloquently by Mr. Penkwitz who commented here (above) last month. Reading
Mr. Penkwitz together with the poem again was quite illluminating. I want
to read more of Anne Sexton's work. What does Mr. Pinkwitz recommend?
What are some poems by other poets Mr. Pinkwitz finds meet his exacting
Robert Bass from United States
Comment 2 of 9, added on September 13th, 2005 at 6:46 PM.
i'm sorry to say i love the perversity, i love the raw emotion she has put
Sarah Marie Rush
from United States
Comment 1 of 9, added on September 3rd, 2005 at 5:46 PM.
Anne's worst poems have this aura around them; you want to like them.
If you do it's because of their attitude not their quality. At the time
talking so plainly about religious matter was more profane than it is
today. Mixing religion and sex was and is even more notorious. However
she also mixes plurals with single instances, such as beginning a poem
called The Fury Of Cocks taliking about a single couple. Some of her poems
would be successfully able to speak about many cocks and a single couple at
the same time; this one doesn't. However the image of a banjo is an
appropriate association if cocks are chickens and it works well.
The four lines: Once more the day's light comes/ with its immense
sun,/its mother trucks,/ its engines of amputation/ seem to come from a
different, if not several different poems, written, or not yet written. It
is a amalgam undissolved with nothing yet prized out. The rest of the poem
works fairly well, however the line, That theater, fails to sum up the
previous lines or give us anything new. The F-word is striking in its
dragging the high ideals of religion to the lowest and most negative sexual
image she could come up with. While this is praiseworthy in some ways it
can only play with transcendence and fail. The idea ends flawed by two
conflicting ideas that leave no room for a solution or clear meaning. That
the couple is god somehow is challenged by the cock being god all by itself
in latter lines. Is the poem a celebration of a joining of opposites or a
mere reduction of sex to an active--and therefore worth while partner--and
a passive bleeding one. What is the message?
from United States