The Return Of The 50ft Woman Poet

Sometimes a poem
will not sound the way
you want it to sound.

In that case
this is what
I recommend you do.

Add some muscle
to it,
add some sugar to it.

Throw in a rock here,
maybe one
with a fossil in it.

Gather some firewood,
build a big fire.
Ignore the burn ban.

Fish a woman
from the bay,
unrecognizable.

A poem
doesn’t have
to beautify the landscape.

A poem
can be
an eyesore.

The poem should be
be sounding
a little better now.

Now add a
basketball player
accused of rape.

Add a former
football player
accused of murder.

Now a cop
planting evidence,
their mo of course!

Add some senseless war,
plenty of civilian dead,
and young soldiers dead.

The poem is beginning
to sound real,
to resemble that remark.

Sometimes a poem
will dominate the seascape.
Sometimes it will creep off

into the sunset
like a cowboy
or a kung fu preacher.

Sometimes the skin
will peel back from the words,
its nakedness will stun you.

The figure before you unveiled
pins you to the wall of the poem.
It is then you realize this is Sylvia Plath.

The Return of the 50ft Woman Poet
takes you by surprise
even though you, yourself, created it her!