The Double Standard
(Growing Up In Wilkinsburg, Pa.)
Come, the teacher told us dark faced children.
These are the poems of William Snodgrass.
He was a student here at Wilkinsburg High School
before the likes of you moved here.
Now see, he was an established writer.
A professor.
(A sigh.
And, an other worldly expression.)
A real writer!
See?
' Was he White? ' one little boy asked quietly.
(Flustered)
Why, of course child!
Oh, Mr. Snodgrass, I thought. Loving his words but
not the established cesura between his words, his life and mine.
2.
There, in Wilkinsburg, you disappeared.
Settled down to suffer beneath a White hood
of the unknown.
Did you have words?
Intellect?
A life to be remembered?
3.
White children with not enough money to move...
These were my friends.
They died young, too.
Had not the merit of class.
Kissed me.
Held me.
Then, disappeared in the historical smoke.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem