Hello Bob - I try to separate my thoughts about the Plath / Hughes marriage
from my reactions to their poetry. I am first and foremost a Plathophile
but I appreciate the earthy power of Hughes's work.
This is a good poem. I wondered if who's instead of whose was deliberate?
The only line I wasn't comfortable with was
until all that remains is the language he gave us
I felt it was already implicit in the poem and felt flat after the wonderful
image of the salmon collapsing in on itself.
I've just noticed that you did a rewrite of this so will read that too!
Best wishes
Catherine
>
>Huge Ted’s Last Morning
>
>Say it anyway you want, he was abundantly private
>even as a kid in the tobacconists in Mexborough
>or re-walking through leaves above Mytholmroyd.
>Whatever else he did he’s still the night-watchman,
>the bee-keeper, the rose-gardener they’d known; a farmer
>who’s now thin fingers you can hardly believe
>yanked out a dead lamb, who’s ears still seem to hear
>footballers in the Pennine rain, their violent words.
>And the last salmon he caught’s still in the fridge,
>its oil and pink weight collapsing in on itself
>until all that remains is the language he gave us,
>the books we’ll re-open, and the deep-vowelled
>*fuck,* said with the nakedness of an old man
>lifted from the bath for the last time.
>
>Bob Cooper
>
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