Poetry Rec: Child by Sylvia Plath
Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
Read MoreMonth: November 2019
When in the chronicle of wasted time (Sonnet 106)
The past becomes sparkly and clean. The 80s & 90s are bright and colorful–full of children laughing and playing out in the safety of suburbia. Racism, who? Sexism, where? Never mind the AIDS crisis, or the Satanic Panic (RIP to so many innocent goths), or the freaking COLD WAR.
Read MoreA Spooky Rossetti Poem for Halloween!
He leaned above me, thinking that I slept
And could not hear him; but I heard him say,
‘Poor child, poor child’: and as he turned away
Came a deep silence, and I knew he wept.
pure acetylene 