Anne Sexton (1928-1974)

Anne Sexton: tall and lovely and dead,
and I, turning the knob, want to get in
and fuck her, but cannot,
because she is dead.
So really, I wanted to, past tense.
                                                            The point being:
how I wanted to fuck her, how
Now, telling you about the biography I just read
on Anne Sexton: a poet, tall and lovely, who chain-smoked
and is now dead          (by her own hand,
                                         proving we claim stars when we can)
and why can’t I stop thinking about
how I am alive, how,
and she, the poet, Anne Sexton is dead,
and if we traded places—
a gravesite for a clean silver spade:
would she be the one
reading a biography about me,
and mooning for a twilight lay
with a dead writer?
These are the sort of questions
which keep me up at night,
and keep me reading biographies
about writers
dead                and open to whatever.

About John Biscello

Originally from Brooklyn, NY, writer, poet, spoken word performer, and playwright, John Biscello now lives in Taos, New Mexico. He is the author of two novels: Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale and Raking the Dust, and a collection of stories, Freeze Tag. His fiction and poetry has appeared in: Art Times, nthposition, The Wanderlust Review, Ophelia Street, Caper, Polyphony, Dilate, Militant Roger, Chokecherries, Farmhouse, BENT, The 555 Collective, Instigator, Brass Sopaipilla, The Iconoclast, Adobe Walls, Kansas City Voices, and the Tishman Review. His blog--Notes of an Urban Stray--can be read at Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale was named Underground Book Reviews 2014 Book of the Year.
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