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Sylvia
You hated daddy for dying
As though he did it for spite
He spoke the right language
So you fancied him a Nazi
Such a clever metaphor
Your frailty was your hamartia
Around which you erected fantasies of degradation
And you tried to die
It took a few dress rehearsals
To find the right irony
For a poetic death
Is more memorable than a poetic life
And few realize the black comedy
Of your gas and your oven
But you had to die like a Jew
