Glass Poetry Press

Volume Five Issue One

Brian J. Hobbs

Anne Sexton, You and Me and This — (A Poem in Which Sex Ends in Death)

Her hands against my Warm cheeks, I Could try to drive away death with our/my sex, An arrogance all men secretly concede — We want to take you One step away from the hard illumination of last breaths or the stop- flutteringbird-beat of Heart-But while I'm inside — Her 1960's talks of landscapes graced by dancing fashionable furniture to rest upon and place head upon and young children fancies of a birth of corpse only begotten heartwise in the stiff, shaky hands of uncertain death or wishful thinking — so that I've failed to bring her any sense of satisfaction and I'm in the middle of the end of our union — she tells me sudden and slippery-mouthed about The beauty of things in their sudden repose — breaking like china, This life, Thin painted — And delicate ——