I Write Quite A Lot

As Anyone Who Has The Slightest Knowledge Of My Work Knows, I Have Little In Common With Larkin, Who Was Tall, Taciturn And Thin-on-top, And Unlike Him I Laugh, Nay, Sneer, In The Face Of Death. I Will Concede One Point: We Are Both Lesbian Poets.

Every Day Is A Gift With A Child, No Matter What Problems You Have.

What Do I Haveto Help Me, Without Spell Or Prayer,endure This Hour, Endless, Heartless, Anonymous,the Death Of Love?

Better Off Dead Than Giving In; Not Taking What You Want.

You Have Me Like A Drawing, Erased, Coloured In, Untitled, Signed By Your Tongue.