Zoo of the New

“the zoo of the new”

—Sylvia Plath, “Child”

I tire of Big Daddy—

And all the little troublous

Daddies out there

Wringing my hands—

In this dark bedroom

Here in North Tawton

I tire of stalking—

St. Peter’s Cemetery

So grand and classical

Meditating on names—

And images wrinkling on

The rotting tombstones

The zoo of the new—

Is much more interesting

An absolutely new thing

I want to be the—

Clear eye of a child again

Fill it with color and ducks

Give me a new ceiling—

With shooting stars and

Snowdrops once again