02-24-2011, 06:33 AM
Sylvia Plath with her head in the stove
like Alice with her legs poking out of the hole.
John Berryman falling from the bridge
like a nickel tossed over someone's balcony.
Ian Curtis tying his noose to the sound
of his wife departing down the drive.
Kurt Cobain cocking his shotgun
as Boddah* slowly waves goodbye.
Sarah Kane dangling from a shoelace
while nurses smoke ciggies outside.
When I was fifteen I believed in meaning.
Now I believe the abyss is shallow,
that the stars sometime shine, and sometimes they don't.
*Childhood imaginary friend, whom his suicide note was addressed to.
like Alice with her legs poking out of the hole.
John Berryman falling from the bridge
like a nickel tossed over someone's balcony.
Ian Curtis tying his noose to the sound
of his wife departing down the drive.
Kurt Cobain cocking his shotgun
as Boddah* slowly waves goodbye.
Sarah Kane dangling from a shoelace
while nurses smoke ciggies outside.
When I was fifteen I believed in meaning.
Now I believe the abyss is shallow,
that the stars sometime shine, and sometimes they don't.
*Childhood imaginary friend, whom his suicide note was addressed to.
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe