Dead End Street
“we had to have it
we got it”
—Ted Hughes,
“9 Willow Street,”
Birthday Letters
Dead End Street—
My poetical address
Number nine—
Even better
It confirmed that—
I’d simply had it
Dead End poet—
9 Willow Street North Tawton
By the yawning Taw River—
Beyond my New England home
Here at my Elm desk—
Ear-plugs and the cliff's edge
Jung’s dreadful nigredo—
It had its eye out for me
It folded its bat wing—
Blackness all around me
Enclosing me, making—
My heart jump in my ribs
I was grabbing at straws—
Anything to get away
Anything to get away—
From marriage & motherhood
As well as from Olwyn—
Aurelia and Big Daddy back home
Pacing the parquet—
Ending up with nothing
Never mind the blockage—
Ariel still in the wings
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