Margaret Atwood Poems

More and more frequently the edges
of me dissolve and I become
a wish to assimilate the world, including
you, if possible through the skin
...

Cruising these residential Sunday
streets in dry August sunlight:
what offends us is
the sanities:
...

All those times I was bored
out of my mind. Holding the log
while he sawed it. Holding
the string while he measured, boards,
...

I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
...

There is nothing to be afraid of,
it is only the wind
changing to the east, it is only
your father the thunder
...

He was the sort of man
who wouldn't hurt a fly.
Many flies are now alive
while he is not.
...

In the burned house I am eating breakfast.
You understand: there is no house, there is no breakfast,
yet here I am.
...

This is the lair of the landlady

She is
a raw voice
...

My shadow said to me:
what is the matter
...

My daughter plays on the floor
with plastic letters,
red, blue & hard yellow,
learning how to spell,
...