Sylvia Plath Poetry is a book filled with the content of Sylvia Plath's poems.
Sylvia Plath was an American poet, novelist, and short story writer.
Plath's work often was singled out for the intense coupling of its violent or disturbed imagery and...
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Two, of course there are two. It seems perfectly natural now-- The one who never looks up, whose eyes are lidded And balled¸ like Blake's. Who exhibits
The birthmarks that are his trademark-- The scald scar of water, The nude Verdigris of the condor. I am red meat. His beak
Claps sidewise: I am not his yet. He tells me how badly I photograph. He tells me how sweet The babies look in their hospital Icebox, a simple
Frill at the neck Then the flutings of their Ionian Death-gowns. Then two little feet. He does not smile or smoke.
The other does that His hair long and plausive Bastard Masturbating a glitter He wants to be loved.
I do not stir. The frost makes a flower, The dew makes a star, The dead bell, The dead bell.
Somebody's done for.
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