Death and the Maiden

Moog synth cathedral tunes
on windy afternoons
awaken Emily,
her white dress trembling.

Ted Hughes killed Sylvia Plath,
not the impartial math
of carbon plus monoxide
equals a suicide.

Poor Proserpina, raped,
diaphonously draped
upon a bed of gold,
between her legs grows mold.

Baroque decomposition:
a lemon peel, a fish, and
a moldy hunk of bread:
the lunchbox of the dead.

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