This royal wedding going on took me completely by surprise – I’m just not that interested, and it seemed to come up really quickly. It also happens to fall on my sister’s wedding anniversary; that’s much more relatable. Still, I wish this latest royal couple the best. (Nasty haters need to get over themselves. What? You’d rather see more of Trump or Real Housewives?) I hope these two have open eyes and flexible hearts. Happy endings aren’t what we’ve come to expect.
My husband jokes (albeit nervously) about my yen for Plath and Sexton. But it’s not a morbid desire that draws me to them; it’s their hard look at life and their exacto knife control of language. Granted, their hard looks at life led them down desperate paths, but that doesn’t mean their words can’t still resonate.
And, since it’s still Poetry Month, from Anne Sexton’s Cinderella:
Cinderella and the prince lived, they say, happily ever after, like two dolls in a museum case never bothered by diapers or dust, never arguing over the timing of an egg, never telling the same story twice, never getting a middle-aged spread, their darling smiles pasted on for eternity. Regular Bobbsey Twins. That story.