Don't Read Plath Before Bedtime
(New Orleans still on my mind)

Relaxed already, I relax
Plath has done her work again
making death seem so simple,
and complicated
making my voice
a sound in my head, like her voice.

Give me gallantry instead of death;
cops saving children from dark waters
cops saving cops from despair
with their voice, their eyes so true
they've seen too much of death
of loss, there is nothing complicated or simple in it.

But my bed is dry and my home is still here.
It is extravagance to sleep and wake and sleep
in peace and privacy. It is obscene.
I know this now. It is in my voice.
I can't believe a lie, striving is everything
the end is nothing
I will not worship it.

Nice.

Thanks WP9. I forgot I put this up here. The situation changes so often down in the Gulf. There's always some kind of heartache.