"Spite-- Homage to Sylvia Plath."
"I stamped my feet and shook my fist and wept.
I wanted to be one of that glamorous sorority of the dead,
I wanted to feel the rib cage opened
and the knocking of the heart let out,
I wanted to lie with the paperweight of the Bible
on my chest.
I wanted the return, the rebirth,
to be the root you fell over, the curb of earth that
made you stumble.
I wanted to be the little poisonous selves that grew up
in your gardens, the henbane, the belladonna,
the lovely, misnamed hens-and-chickens.
I wanted revenge, to be beyond hurt and worry,
to come back as the vegetal, the spectacular amphibian
welter of the swamp, the pond, the marsh, the fen,
to begin again and again, I wanted to be no mind,
all flesh, no thinking, all feeling,
just IS taking everything into its bog, its tar pit,
into the locked box of unbeing."