A poem-by-poem engagement with Sylvia Plath's Ariel and the towering mythology surrounding it. When I am a bitch I feel in such good company.Nice girls never gave me anything but trouble,Eating the ground out from under me, then wavingAs I fall. Pity one has to die to see how liberatingBad can be. But what news had I of my own self?Words landed like razors, hours tinkled, suitors arrived.Listen, you'll think otherwise, but I tell you, betrayalIs your...
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Poetry