The Collected Poems

by Sylvia Plath

One can see here, too, how exclusively her writing depended on a supercharged system of inner symbols and images, an enclosed cosmic circus. If that could have been projected visually, the substance and patterning of these poems would have made very curious mandalas. As poems, they are always inspired high jinks, but frequently quite a bit more. And even at their weakest they help chart the

I shut my doors on that dark guilt, I bolt the door, each door I bolt. Blood quickens, gonging in my ears: The panther’s tread is on the stairs, Coming up and up the stairs.