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Eleanor Ross Taylor



I'm a woman at a window talking to a man outside.     My elbow's on the sill. The carved   acanthus leaves   behind me wheeze with dust.   Some other leaves crush   underneath his shoes   flat on the canvas (you can't hear it of course) [...]

Early Deaths

The baby did not know. Felicia, waking early to despair that made the very light seem granite, heard faintly the morning song the baby made from the little room at the end of the hall, voicing snatches of welcome to his hands and heels, as he waite [...]


Spring 1985 | Poetry

You were sent up the road to pick centrifugal daisies with Aunt Peggy, out of earshot of your mother's scream; or your mother pulled the vox humana stop to muffle shot and squeal; and the germander is sprouting casually, greening on ashes. Where is S [...]

Enter Daughter

Plumped with 10 P. M. feeding    she's poked in by her       mother-in-sweater-and-Keds. He's at his reading,    his desk the one ember       left burning in his domestic shade. On the closet door one    vestigial hardrock poste [...]

Order and Law

A dog-cat yowling from the night, a caterwauling to the gods (cat-gods and tigers of that blood) the animal trip-trigger yell in raw extremity—fanged to the flesh, to tears. She hated. The snarls drew her bared teeth down tight; her flashlight shiv [...]

Women’s Terminal Ward

she was walking the two white Spitzes in the dusk of College Circle                     three wraiths   dreaming absently of that female babe   the chairman forbade that she adopt she was waltzing into class late        [...]