Robert Lowell and Sylvia Plath

Robert Lowell and Sylvia Plath We walk together, down the primrose path Side by side, and each by each You watch yourself until you're out of reach Now you're split in two And each side still isn't you And you know how that sounds But it keeps being true Robert Lowell and Sylvia Plath It's nice if you ignore the aftermath On your right, the verse, the rhyme On the left, a ghoulish pantomime Now you're split in two And each side still isn't you And you know how that sounds But it keeps being true And what's to become of me? What am I doing here? Robert Lowell and Sylvia Plath Paint and plaster, stripped down to the lath One now broken, one now dust Victim of a mental wanderlust Now you're split in two And each side still isn't you And you know how that sounds But it keeps being true And what's to become of me? What am I doing here?