Is/Not by Margaret Atwood

Margaret Atwood

Love is not a profession
genteel or otherwise

sex is not dentistry
the slick filling of aches and cavities

you are not my doctor
you are not my cure,

nobody has that
power, you are merely a fellow/traveller

Give up this medical concern,
buttoned, attentive,

permit yourself anger
and permit me mine

which needs neither
your approval nor your suprise

which does not need to be made legal
which is not against a disease

but against you,
which does not need to be understood

or washed or cauterized,
which needs instead

to be said and said.
Permit me the present tense.


Got this one from Eva.


it spells so habitual I can’t tell it from love

I’m sorry if I can’t help but write so much these days. I’m waiting for some people to deliver their much-considered comments on my “seriouser stuff”. But really, I’ve been feeling really happy and it comes out as sadsad words and imagined events, et cetera. Poetry, whaddya know.

So um, here, for the people who are tired of reading me rattle on about stars and longing and things we’re not taught to think of as children – a couple of poems made by People Cooler Than Me.

ToC to skim through

  • The Beauty of The Husband, Anne Carson
  • Variation on the Word Sleep, Margaret Atwood
  • Flying Inside Your Own Body, Margaret Atwood
  • Ask Me, William Stafford
  • Love Without Love, Luis Llorens Torres
  • The Map of Light, Eric Gamalinda

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