• Lady Lazarus by Sylvia Plath

"Dying Is an art, like everything else, I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I've a call."

That is kind of an obvious Sylvia Plath poem, so let's pick another not so well-known.

• The Munich Mannequins by Sylvia Plath

"O the domesticity of these windows, The baby lace, the green-leaved confectionery,

The thick Germans slumbering in their bottomless Stolz. And the black phones on hooks

Glittering Glittering and digesting

Voicelessness. The snow has no voice."

• Funeral Blues by W.H. Auden