Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Tag Archive for ‘Sylvia Plath’

Eating Crow

After Reading Ted Hughes     A Devon autumn chases ghosts down alleys, Shura should have been our lost baby, the one flowering from the toilet the day you crumpled your face, pasty- white like the old hive, resurrected with blue-heart eyes. I was Prospero. I was Caliban. I was the filthy-nailed stand in for Daddy. Already, my tongue bled lies, my ****— thick with honey, my vows of wild-escape. […]

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Ghost of Shura Speaks

Daddy, you emptied oxygen into one of her honeycombs. I was perfect, an amber bead on your tongue when you kissed mummy, filled her bones with bees. The dead are lonely. I walk to the river and sing to you, move the planchette among smooth stones and reeds. The terrible smell of sweat and sweet gas, her hand on my mouth. If I am a good girl, I will get […]

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