January 2011
58 posts
Daddy - by Sylvia Plath
You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time—
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In...
I am a child of death!
I am nothing sacred.
i swear i can hear London calling.
i still love you, new york.
but i’m just fucking sick and tired of you.
