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More poems by Anne SextonAnne Sexton | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments (12) | Books by Anne SextonBooks by Anne Sexton

After Auschwitz

Anne Sexton

Anger,
as black as a hook,
overtakes me.
Each day,
each Nazi
took, at 8:00 A.M., a baby
and sauteed him for breakfast
in his frying pan.

And death looks on with a casual eye
and picks at the dirt under his fingernail.

Man is evil,
I say aloud.
Man is a flower
that should be burnt,
I say aloud.
Man
is a bird full of mud,
I say aloud.

And death looks on with a casual eye
and scratches his anus.

Man with his small pink toes,
with his miraculous fingers
is not a temple
but an outhouse,
I say aloud.
Let man never again raise his teacup.
Let man never again write a book.
Let man never again put on his shoe.
Let man never again raise his eyes,
on a soft July night.
Never. Never. Never. Never. Never.
I say those things aloud.

Added: 31 Aug 2001 | Last Read: 23 Jan 2018 8:32 PM | Viewed: 26863 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/548/ | Viewed on 23 January 2018.
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