I'm on the bus to Menindah. There's barely a roadside puddle to show for the downpour and now the sky is powder blue. And the or twelve people on the bus, same ones as yesterday, are dressed for cool and comfort. My head is in a book —— what a surprise —— but I have to give it a rest for a while. I love Sylvia Plath, but I can only read her poetry in short bursts; stay too long in her world and the gloom seeps through by osmosis.
The poem I read before I shut the book was 'Mad Girl's Love Song'. Cool title. The first few line gives you a clue about her style. It's about how the world drops dead when she shuts her eyes.
Sylvia killed herself at thirty.
Tempting fate, I shut my eyes too, and as I do last night comes zipping back to me, easy as pressing rewind.
……
A Straight Line to My Heart, P133-134
Bill Condon
ISBN 978-174237-730-8
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