I don’t want to be a man anymore
I want to be a silvery freak
A grayish freak, a bluish freak
A dancing freak made of silvery stuff
Not quite a man, not quite a man
But an elephant man with prehensile nose
And long, long loopy flopping arms
And jigging legs that enlace the air
And a nose that taps the dappled air
And eyes that unpeel the tender air
And skin that swings through the mighty air
And toes that graze the grassy air.
From a sordid bus, I saw such a man.
On a dew-intense hillside, he did his turn.
Upside down and right side up,
He swung his skin through the shadow and light
And his thick toes grazed the airy grass
And he swung his skin through the mighty air.
Loosely, elegantly, he sang in my head:
“The poor aren’t good
The poor aren’t bad
The poor aren’t smart
The poor aren’t dumb
The poor aren’t dirt
The poor aren’t god
The poor aren’t wrong
The poor aren’t right--
They’re just the poor,
Like you and me
They’re just the poor
Like you and me.”
© Stephen Margulies, 2013
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| Art by Stephen Margulies |
2 comments:
It just begs to be read outloud! All those sounds building and repeating and circling. Thank you for sharing!
I loved the dreamy sounds and images of this poem when you read it at Live Poets. I like the thought of a green-clad jigging Ganesha. Thanks, Stephen.
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