Suicide Dance
If writing is faith
You were a nun
Changing poetry from two to one
Sylvia
A cascading light
Not built for the night
Soaring free
Imagination bee
Biting sea
Orange unicorn
Pink kangaroo
My anti-medusa
Ran and fell
Into a deep well
Attempting suicide
Three times
The last successful
Head in the oven
Children sleeping
Savage husband not home
On a cold mid-February day in London in 1963
The best poet of the 20th century lay in a body bag at 30
Nine months a precursor to JFK
Sylvia
Blue Bengals
Teeth like homeless encampments
Cheeks like rose petals
Claws like elephant tusks
Eyes like insane kaleidascopes
Licorice hair like biting glare
Turquoise game shows
Cobalt river
Deepest ocean
Orange potion
Granted commotion
Outside promotion
Hyaluronic Acid lotion
Hispanic parade
Blue Bengals
Choppy waters
Heroic daughters
Pennsylvania slaughters
Washington won
Braids stun
Loud gun
State fair fun
We know nothing
But what we think we know
Cruising to Mars
Among the stars
Only to bring our problems
To another planet
Slow insanity
Deep profanity
Scarlet Meadow
Saturated by white rain
Incubated by fierce insane
Insinuated by intense bane
Eliminated by severe blame
Recriminated by a bite of shame
We never know
What we can tow
Until a voice
Tells us so
Scarlet meadow
Not blue
Or yellow
But crimson
You diminish
The strong
By whipping
The weak
Great glade
Not homemade
Rainbow tundra
Unicorn Sandra
Keep our place
On this dotted face
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