Feel Oddly Barren. My Sickness Is When

They Had To Call And Call And Pick The Worms Off Me Like Sticky Pearls.

I Decided I Would Put Off The Novel Until I Had Gone To Europe And Had A Lover, And That I Would Never Learn A Word Of Shorthand. If I Never Learned Shorthand I Would Never Have To Use It.

I Don't Know What Started Me, I Just Wrote Poetry From The Time Was Quite Small. I Guess I Liked Nursery Rhymes And I Guess I Thought I Could Do The Same Thing. I Wrote My First Poem, My First Published Poem, When I Was Eight-and-a-half Years Old. It Came Out In The Boston Traveller And From Then On, I Suppose, I've Been A Bit Of A Professional.

Jealousy Can Open The Blood, It Can Make Black Roses.

Beached Under The Spumy Blooms, We Lie Sea-sick And Fever-dry.