Erica Jong Poems

You open to me
a little,
then grow afraid
and close again,
...

People wish to be settled. Only as long as they are unsettled is there any hope for them.
-- Thoreau

My life has been
...

He was six foot four, and forty-six
and even colder than he thought he was
James Thurber, The Thirteen Clocks
...

Baby-witch,
my daughter,
my worship of the Goddess
alone
...

We have a small sculpture of Henry James on our terrace in New York City.

Nothing would surprise him.
The beast in the jungle was what he saw--
...

the sky sinks its blue teeth
into the mountains.

Rising on pure will
...

The poet fears failure
& so she says
"Hold on pen--
what if the critics
...

I began by loving women
& the love turned
to bitterness.
...

What is the central passion
of a life?
To please mummy & daddy?
To find a home for their furniture?
...

"...a frozen memory, like any photo,
where nothing is missing, not even,
and especially, nothingness..."
-- Julio Cortázar, "Blow Up"
...