The poem is always the last resort. In it the poet makes a world in little, and finds peace, even though, under complete focused emotion, the evocation be far more bitter than reality, or far more lovely.
Louise BoganWomen have no wilderness in them They are provident instead Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts To eat dusty bread.
Louise BoganNo more pronouncements on lousy verse. No more hidden competition. No more struggling not to be a square.
Louise Bogan