::: fever 103°
Saya tergeletak demam, Badu datang menjenguk. Sekeranjang apel, 2 kaleng soda, dan setengah lusin DVD. Juga sepucuk surat, isinya puisi. "Dari Bada," ujar Badu, "plus salam semoga lekas sehat."
Clownlike, happiest on your hands,
Feet to the stars, and moon-skulled,
Gilled like a fish. A common-sense
Thumbs-down on the dodo's mode.
Wrapped up in yourself like a spool,
Trawling your dark as owls do.
Mute as a turnip from the Fourth
Of July to All Fool's Day,
O high-riser, my little loaf.
Vague as fog and looked for like mail.
Farther off than Australia.
Bent-backed Atlas, our travelled prawn.
Snug as a bud and at home
Like a sprat in a pickle jug.
A creel of eels, all ripples.
Jumpy as a Mexican bean.
Right, like a well-done sum.
A clean slate, with your own face on.
(Sylvia Plath, 1960)
Betapa saya kangen Bada. Sangat.