Through Plath's Eyes

Death has gotten the best of me Mother said it too It’s true The Nazis and Jews are marching outside to celebrate. The hate The date you died on that Northen shore. And of all the songs I’ve written, This one I could never finish. These fingers, Slimmer than cigarettes, Burn at the punch of every letter. My teeth- ah my teeth Crushed by metal and steel I could never speak I could never speak to you And this tongue Turned oh so blue- From the times I held it back Because of you. I don’t believe in Santa anymore, daddy He never took me back to you And by your deathbed where One shoe lies instead of two One kick less in my broken hip One kick less from the Panzerman- you And on this Masachusettes shore Where I cried myself Till the sea-shells went shut In the mire and the muck I see nothing but your face, featureless Shining through It’s time for the dark dawn to come again.