I've just realized
that all these years
I've filed Mary Jo Kopechne
and Karen Anne Quinlan
in adjacent
trinomial
pigeon holes.
Sometimes
they trade places,
and Karen Anne,
ever patient,
lies on the riverbed
beneath the bridge
while Mary Jo,
still trapped
in Teddy's car,
strains wide-eyed
at her window,
pleading
with the nurses
for deliverance
from her watery
world.
It's time
for Superman,
played by Chris Reeve,
his powers
restored
at last
without
the aid
of stem cell
research,
to scoop
both girls
from limbos
not of their own making
and lift them
heavenward
to a paradise
they hadn't
dared
to imagine
but was
always there
ready
to make things
right.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Anyone who can raise his own soul from limbo must be a superman. If he can raise his own soul, he can raise somebody else's. So the most fundamental way of raising souls is to expose a budding superhero to a higher form of energy. Unfortunately, that usually happens by freak accident.