death_of_the_author epitome of incomprehensibility (zombie_sylvia_plath's_diss_track, sort of; for her and against her; may be subject to change) I’m rising like a phoenix, American as the atom bomb. I’ve got this war inside me. Heaven knows you’ll come along. This woman is perfected, Hear the beating of my heart; I think I’ve resurrected Dying as an art. I don’t want to stay in the kitchen. I’ll be famous, die in a kitchen. Not be famous for being shut in; Emily Dickinson, I’m winning Death of the author, Death of the author. Death of the author, That’s why you bother Reading our stuff Cause we don’t live longer. Ending it young May lose all its glamour. That doesn’t matter— I did it better. John Keats died of consumption; Honey, I eat men like air. But I wouldn’t consume him; Checked his brain, there’s nothing there. And his buddy, Percy Shelley, So romantic, drowned in shame That his wife could still outwrite him; Frankenstein’s to blame. I’m not scared of you, Virginia Woolf. Should have done it sooner, that’s the truth. And James Joyce, I’d push you off a roof. Finnegans Wake make me depressed like Death of the author, Death of the author. Death of the author, That’s why you bother Reading our stuff Cause we don’t live longer. Talk to the ex Or talk to the father. What can they offer Death of the author? My fire melts your sad core Heart, it bleeds Allura Red. And you don’t really know me. Baby, Roland Barthes is dead. Obsessed with my depression, Like I was with World War Two— And bees, and ancient Greece— But you, you do not do. It’s barbaric to read poetry Like it’s just autobiography. Like Anne Frank, I wrote a diary; For her pains, I just blamed Daddy. Sure, we survived for a while With the cases we enclosed in titles About closed-in spaces Like a clear glass jar Or a hidden apartment; But that’s life, And it’s not my department. If you’re an author, It’s quite a bother Writing stuff down But we don’t get younger. Fifteen or thirty, Age is a number; Why do we count on Counting much higher? Death of the author, What can you offer? What can you offer Death of the author? 220419 ... nr RIP, steven heighton :( 220419 ... tender_square [sweet lord above, i loved every stanza of this, e_o_i. the rhythm, the images, the buildup of of the argument, the refrain. it's fucking brilliant.] 220420 ... e_o_i Hey, thanks, t_s!! I messed up the link, of course; it was supposed to be zombie_sylvia_plath's_new_diss_track. This morning, I was flipping through my little Everyman edition of Emily Brontë's poems, which led me to think "Hey, I wrote this thing about writers who died young and I didn't even mention the Brontës!" ...and then to go back to this and see your comments... And another thank you to nr, because I'd never heard of Steven Heighton before and his poetry looks interesting. At least the book titles! I'm a sucker for an interesting title. 220421 what's it to you? who go blather from