Читать книгу Thunderbird - Dorothea Lasky - Страница 13

Death and Sylvia Plath

My student in the city college

Really likes the poems of Sylvia Plath

She is writing her research paper about

Lady Lazarus

I like this student

She spends some time

Leaning over me and telling me

How in the poem Plath turns from an object

Into an entertainer

And finally into a demon

Oh yes, you are right, I tell her

We are pleased

I wonder afterwards,

Why do young women like Sylvia Plath?

Why doesn’t everyone?

The student tells me that when she was young

She liked Plath

I did too

I did not ride horses

Sylvia Plath rode horses

I don’t have a thesis

I don’t have a structure

I am a demon

There are blue streaks in the sky

It is Spring

I am not you

Nor do I want to be

It is 2:21 on 2/21/2010

I am not alive

No, I am no longer breathing

I don’t live in this world

I already live in the other one