Fine Flu Journal Fine Flu Journal- june 2014 | Page 37

THE ARMCHAIR COLUMN
Poems and excerpts from poets and authors we love to read

SYLVIA PLATH

DADDY
You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time ---Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal
And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
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