12.26.2010

Lady Lazarus in the Bath


I have done it again.
One week in every seven
I ruin it.

Bones in the basin
And the sodden skin
Above it; I roll

On a beaded spine
And stain the fever liquid
With my rust.

The water in the
Curtain's shadow--
Once faucet-sweet--

Now might be the ocean's.
I leave my poppy-petal
Pigment in the tub.

These are my roots
My lashes now.
I may be tarnished silver;

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was scared.
It was an accident.

Now in voluntary
Madness I submerge,
Then, dripping my undoing, stand:

Out of the water
I rise with my wet hair
And only ashes to wear.





original poem here.
photograph by Pennie Naylor.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

the lawyer for the estate of sylvia plath oughta be calling any day now

Kate Horowitz said...

And why is that? You don't suppose the Lady was a natural redhead, do you? Even a phoenix needs a zippo every once in a while.


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