Bare feet on linoluem

Stay on your path Sylvia Plath don't fall away like all the others

Don't take all your secrets alone to your watery grave about lovers and mother

The secrets you keep will keep you in deep like Father and Amy and brother And all of the people you meet on the street will reiterate lies that she uttered

Leave me in peace I cry late at night on a slow boat bound for Catalina for no reason

Tiny beads of sweat dot my forehead could be mistaken for dew drops if this were photo season.

But alas this is a real life - and it's been a real fight just to keep my mind from committing treason. Why you ask? Because she told the towns people I was crazy and the lies they started to believe them

But anyway - I've moved on now

And now that I've gone scorched earth I'm left wondering where to go from here. To Sonoma where the fires have just left? South Dakota ?

Would standing in front of Mount Rushmore feel like the Great American homecoming I never had?

Would the magnitude of the scale of the sculpture take the place of the warm embrace I've never known.

Or should I just be here now In the kitchen Bare feet on linoleum Bored - but not unhappy Cutting vegetables over boiling water that I will later turn into stew