Thomas Lux

Thomas Lux (December 10, 1946 – February 5, 2017) was an American poet.

Quotes

• Your baby grows a tooth, then two,
  and four, and five, then she wants some meat
  directly from the bone. It's all
  over: she'll learn some words, she'll fall
  in love with cretins, dolts, a sweet
  talker on his way to jail. And you,
  your wife, get old, flyblown, and rue
  nothing. You did, you loved, your feet
  are sore. It's dusk. Your daughter's tall.
  • "A Little Tooth", in Líneas conectadas. Nueva poesía de los Estados Unidos. April Lindner, Editor. Sarabande Books, Louisville, Kentucky. ISBN 978-1-932-51121-5