Thursday, September 14, 2006

Lines By Robert Lowell


"The muskrat that took a slice of your thumb still huddles, a mop of hair and heart-beat on the porch."

"All Autumn, the chafe and jar of nuclear war; we have talked our extinction to death."

"Life danced a jig on the sperm-whale's spout."

"But in the silence, some one lets out his belt to breathe, some one roams in negligee."
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