/hear the wren sing and the falling cease
Daddy But the pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look
And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.
If I've killed one man, I've killed two---
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.
There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through
-Sylvia Plath
Industrial Revolution is making my eyes spin in my head like sugar. Of mills, factories, limbs snapped like twigs and children and their futures choked in fog and death like plague. Literature was the therapy, however chosing Path was the irony.
6:30 AM
