Plath's Last Stand Poem by GRANT FRASER

The forensic
photographer,
literally
climbs up
from behind,

In full monochrome
or black & white,
clambers across
a dressed firm rump,

Captures bathroom white
sandaled feet
and blemished calves
in a part
sensuous wave
of death,

Catacomb
of relic cooker,
so inanimate,

As poor Sylvia
an enthusiastic cook,
thaws each word,
out into raw form,
for worms to come...

The photo of course
is considerably horrid,
yet oddly sexual..

And I'm not the last
to notice,

As if man's guilt
is something,
to look out from?

Man the magnet
of all behinds,
past and present,
is pulled in regardless..