The New Yorker: Poetry cover image

Vijay Seshadri Reads Sylvia Plath

The New Yorker: Poetry

CHAPTER

The Poetry of the World, R of the World

The poem ends with that amazing horror moving image, ye, ye. In some sense, we engage things in our poetry that we don't quite ever engage in the world,. And we use poetry to deflect that. Whether that's true or not, it was a nice trope to work there. i think i sort of wanted to say something about the savagery, but that's all i could say."

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