Back in ’92 I was thumbing through an anthology one night and came across To Bedlam and Part Way Back, I’d read it before, but this time it confirmed my wish to leave this world behind and move toward that one. I spent the rest of the year writing out her poems, carrying them in my purse, like currency, taping them to mirrors, reciting them on my answering machine, leaving her graffiti on bathroom walls, catching the one-woman spoken word show that toured the country after her biography came out, riding my bike to the Ransom Historical Center where they said some of her drafts and letters were kept. For six months I didn’t care about anything else because nothing else compared with her, not because she was gratifying or admirable, but because she was the first, and for that reason will have to be celebrated. So there. Happy birthday, Anne Sexton, to the best of my knowledge this week’s music video quite captures your essence.
Rats live on no evil star
November 9, 2007 by flawedplan