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CUT - by Sylvia Plath, for Susan O'Neill Roe
What a thrill -
My thumb instead of an onion.
The top quite gone
Except for a sort of a hinge
Of skin,
A flap like a hat,
Dead white.
Then that red plush.
Little pilgrim,
The Indian's axed you scalp.
Your turkey wattle
carpet rolls
Straight from the heart.
I step on it,
Clutching my bottle
Of pink fizz.
A celebration, this is.
Out of a gap
A million soldiers run,
Redcoats, every one.
Whose side are they on?
O my
Homunculus, I am ill.
I have taken a pill to kill
The thin
Papery feeling.
Saboteur,
Kamikaze man -
The stain on your
Gauze Ku Klux Klan
Babushka
Darkens and tarnishes and when
The balled
Pulp of your heart
Confronts its small
Mill of silence
How you jump -
Trepanned veteran,
Dirty girl,
Thumb stump.
On October 25 2006
1 Views
renata
On 26/10/2006
vamos parar de assinar como natassja kinski, já deu.hehee eu gosto de sylvia plath também. essa gente depressiva é sempre legal.
fernandinha
On 26/10/2006
quero um jun pra cook me some cenourinhas e comidas saudáveis não agüento mais esse paraíso de fast-food.
fernanda
On 25/10/2006
genius, como sempre.Homunculus, I am ill. I have taken a pill to kill (i swallowed a jagged little pill it's swimming in my stomach trying to kill my anxiety...)
