Leaping, leaping, leaping, <br />down line by line, <br />growling at the cadavers, <br />filling the holy jugs with their piss, <br />falling into windows and mauling the parents, <br />but soft, kiss-soft, <br />and sobbing sobbing <br />into their awful dog dish. <br /> <br />No point? No twist for you <br />in my white tunnel? <br />Let me speak plainly, <br />let me whisper it from the podium- <br /> <br />Mother, may I use your pseudonym? <br />May I take the dove named Mary <br />and shove out Anne? <br />May I take my check book, my holographs, <br />my eight naked books, <br />and sign it Mary, Mary, Mary <br />full of grace? <br />I know my name is not offensive <br />but my feet hang in the noose. <br />I want to be white. <br />I want to be blue. <br />I want to be a bee digging into an onion heart, <br />as you did to me, dug and squatted <br />long after death and its fang. <br /> <br />Hail Mary, full of me, <br />Nibbling in the sitting room of my head. <br />Mary, Mary, virgin forever, <br />whore forever, <br />give me your name, <br />give me your mirror. <br />Boils fester in my soul, <br />so give me your name so I may kiss them, <br />and they will fly off, <br />nameless <br />but named, <br />and they will fly off like angel food dogs <br />with thee <br />and with thy spirit. <br />Let me climb the face of my kitchen dog <br />and fly off into my terrified years.<br /><br />Anne Sexton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-angel-food-dogs/
