Untitled 13

Untitled 13
I feel frozen in place
yet I feel heat...but it's not it not quite
Isn't that what they did with
The Queen in Snow White
To be cooked from sole to head
To be meat
A twisted kind of dead
Anne says it best
It's like she's my mother
And my name is Sylvia
Yeats is my brother.
Poets divine
Then they divide
They stand up and protest
When others decide to hide
"So this is what it is to feel"
says the finger tip to the key
"Imagine what it is to see ."
To see is to be broken at best
But then we can write about it
And convince ourselves everything is merely conjured in jest.