The weak are the hardest of souls:
Hearts compressed – and valves turned – to stone.
Futures – clamped shut, then -- rusted -- desires detained –
trifling pleasures held up – at checkpoints –
with the gauze and chlorine tablets –
mosquito dreams – millipede calms.
For soft folk – look to the strong.
Hearts spacious – dreams Dolby -- ventricles plush.
Futures gushing – desires ushered through –
every whimsy feted by – doormen –
adoring and slim – and discreet –
walk-in closets full of tulle flattery and –
ethics of brushed sateen –
the strong gasp to hear
the killer – said Hello -- Excuse me – and drank coffee –
or the minister’s plain wife –
humbly drowned -- babies – or the jocular
President guy – raped regions
with good reasons.
Grasping and shaken, the strong – reboot --
with sentimental news – one Iraqi mutt –
adopted; one burned child -- among millions -- awarded
surgery from the space age; a leader of iron –
wears Mother’s holy icon.
They indulge a pretty hobby of hoping -- that
the forbidding building -- Power – is
not really run from the top floor:
for soft folk look to the strong.
The meek shall -- inherit the earth.
Hard words of a weak man –
for weak folk. Words of uprooting – deshouke –
toppling – taking – battering --
the weak are the hardest of people.
Yuanli, May 20, 2008