The Plath Path

I'm on the Plath path
Head in the oven
Pushin' and shovin' on up to Jesus
to walk where Lady Lazarus walked
Ted Hughes ain't got nothin'
on the way my heart beats
to the flow
to the heat
of Sylvia
and her commission to rhyme
so sick it's a crime
not for feminists
or literary critics
or anyone who thinks Daddy is a happy rant about dancing on tiptoes
I'm on the Plath path out
to meet this lady upon poetic prisms
where we can chat about
the tulips, and the morning song, and the shitheads
who put us at the top
the Plath path out
to the countryside
where I'll ask why, Sylvia, did you fry?
We needed your stained glass eye
to shed some light on why people cry
flags of truce
dangling white and loose
till they tie it up in a noose
because no one will agree to disagree
but you were a little more creative, yeah?
baking the sweetest knowledge till it burned
too long on the fire charred rungs
I'm on the Plath path to show you
how your poetry drives me
bird out of a cage free
mad
like personal letters to carry on
they're in my backpack
knapsacked forever in my mind
because out of the ashes with my red hair I rise
for the hell of it
staying relevant
I'm on the Plath path out
to meet you and personally reply
because you wrote to the future; a case of Mcfly
come back in your cadillac to the future
and nurture
your good ole pen pal from 2011
we could've been best friend
the oven and Ted and unpublished alibis
would all be misunderstanding
simple
like sugar
I'm on the Plath path to adventure
to strive for this to be heard
even if you get it attached to a bird leg
like back in the day
I'm diggin' on it going your way
so maybe someday
we can make a lunch date, Sylvia
and we can eat cold plates
because of how head sedates
and put you where you're at
I'm on the Plath path
because, Sylvia, I need a logical lady friend
to explain why
the sky hasn't fallen yet**