Poetry Corner: Doomsday by Sylvia Plath

The idiot bird leaps out and drunken leans

Atop the broken universal clock:

The hour is crowed in lunatic thirteens.

Out painted stages fall apart by scenes

While all the actors halt in mortal shock:

The idiot bird leaps out and drunken leans.

Streets crack through in havoc-split ravines

As the doomstruck city crumbles block by block:

The hour is crowed in lunatic thirteens.

Fractured glass flies down in smithereens;

Our lucky relics have been put in hock:

The idiot bird leaps out and drunken leans.

The monkey’s wrench has blasted all machines;

We never thought to hear the holy cock:

The hour is crowed in lunatic thirteens.

Too late to ask if end was worth the means,

Too late to calculate the toppling stock:

The idiot bird leaps out and drunken leans,

The hour is crowed in lunatic thirteens.

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