Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

Frida sits coiffed (in whiteface), sits next to the canvas,
A lacy underskirt, apron, earrings, braids in a wreath,
Death at her left hand, headless Diego on her right,
An umbilical cord links them, the vessels, the threads like wiring,
A crystal globe hangs on a thread before her,
Showing skies, room, people, ocean,
Her heart stops, her heart beats in her throat,
Grass has overgrown her bed,
Frida sits there like a stone idol.
In the air hovers a Mother of God, a crucified Frida lies in a cradle,
Crucified Frida lies there
Diego is with Paulette Godard

Frida sits there like a queen, shawls, brooches, flowers in her hair,
    Look at her tears, lockets, bracelets, beads, embroidery, ribbons,
                    pendants, fringe,
Dead dolls lie next to her, portraits (retratos) of leaders hang at
                    the bed-head,
Frida sits there corseted in staves, covered in scabs,
Grass is overgrowing her bed
Grass grows from her head
Diego is with María Félix
Frida is dressed as a little boy, look at her cigarettes, stones,
                                                                                crystals,
                    bits of mica,
Her monkey hugging her, her parrots, women drowning in hair,
Stars in her ears, mirrors in the garden, lace,
Corpses, deer, weird breeds of dog,
The deceased Prince Dimas
Angels cradled by a heart,
                                      pierced through her breast
Frida is with Lucienne Bloch
Frida is with Eva Frederick
Frida is at home with his wife Lupe Marín
Frida is in a cradle, Diego is in mourning,
                                      look at the cards, marriage,
                                        mariage
There are two Fridas, two Fridas are there.