The view of the world
under a microscope
Is a kitchen table
Loaded to the brim with crock ware
and hot bake
Shouting, each person
wants to be heard because now,
Now is the time they have waited for
to speak
The child listens
Straining at the ceaseless drone
And barks of his betters,
Whose voice will pierce the squalling cacophony,
Which hominy will bore wisdom into his heart?
They eat thanklessly.
Remarking with brusque abandon
on the scantiness of their portions, and the size and
Limit
of the biscuits.
Despite the mother's care and effort
They eat tastelessly.
And shriek to unbent ears,
Like waves breaking upon one another,
Gouging the shore.
Will no one listen? I wonder,
Myself unable to remain silent.
And I pity them, between unpleasurable bites,
Wondering if anyone
at all
has
heard me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good presentation......