Is Sylvia Plath the proper poet to read about death? At age 30 she died by putting her head in her oven. What makes a “proper poet” to read when YOU are dying of a chronic dis-ease?
My meals are easy to prepare now. Breakfast is the BIG ONE with sausage, eggs, and toast with natural peanut butter. Two pieces of toast with peanut butter is for lunch. Dinner is usually a bowl of fruit. That’s it. I don’t get hungry to speak of. It’s more a social thing. Like drinking coffee.
Next month a lady from Seniors & Disabilities will stop by to talk to me about my life for the next 12 months. It looks like I am in the “final stretch” of this life’s race. From the depths of my heart, mind, soul I know I will not just be put on a shelf to watch the world poison or blow itself up while I do nothing. The changes the world has gone through in the last 76 years boggles my mind. Hope. Ja hoppas, alltid.
The link is Sylvia Plath reading NICK AND THE CANDLESTICK.