"ACID" - A POEM BY THE PULITZER PRIZE FOR POETRY - MARY OLIVER
"ACID"
IN JAKARTA,
AMONG THE VENDERS
OF FLOWERS AND SOFT DRINKS,
I SAW A CHILD
WITH A HIDEOUS MOUTH,
BEGGING,
AND I KNEW THE WOUND WAS MADE
FOR A WAY TO STAY ALIVE.
WHAT I GAVE HIM
WOULDN'T KEEP A DOG ALIVE.
WHAT HE GAVE ME
FROM THE BROWN COIN
OF HIS SWEATING FACE
WAS A LOOK OF CUNNING.
I CARRY IT
LIKE A BEAD OF ACID
TO REMEMBER HOW,
ONCE IN A WHILE,
YOU CAN CREEP OUT OF YOUR OWN LIFE
AND BECOME SOMEONE ELSE --
AN EXPLOSION
IN THAT NEST OF WIRES
WE CALL THE IMAGINATION.
I WILL NEVER SEE HIM
AGAIN, I SUPPOSE.
BUT WHAT OF THIS RAG,
THIS SHADOW
FLUNG LIKE A BOY'S BODY
INTO THE WALLS
OF MY MIND, BLEEDING
THEIR SOUR TASTE --
INSULT AND ANGER,
THE GREAT MOVERS?
BY: MARY OLIVER
FROM: THE BOOK "DREAM WORK"
COURTESY OF THE LOCAL LIBRARY
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