Friday, April 17, 2009

Poem a Day, April 17

April 17, 2009




Plath

bee stings, self-inflicted,
the concentration camp
of self-loathing

why not escape
on Ariel, why not ride
to freedom?

the words piled as bones
beside a fire, futile
fuel for death

there was never
any doubt, the oven
was pre-ordained

I regret your choices,
the daddy inside you,
black shoe on your heart



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