Rigged poker -stiff on her back
With a granite grin
This antique museum-cased lady
Lies, companioned by the gimcrack
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.3) This antique museum-cased lady, what a poem! Though only a poem, all is so visible and we can feel the eerie atmosphere here. Brilliant!
2) This poem is so beautiful, poignant, like a thriller, but unforgivable, typical November woman. She has 'devoured' me again (now) Breathtaking!
1) Typical Sylvia Plath, also my favourite poet of the lurid kind, unlike Keats or Yeats, but she continues to be called Sylvia Plath, because she writes so plastic, elastic, torpedoing her victims into the depths, always that fierce tone,
Chillingly incise imagery that lays bear the uncocooned vulnerability of our own mortality.
An interesting piece written with clarity of thought and mind. A beautiful work of art...