As a child (in Australia) he was forced to eat a newborn kangaroo -- it weighed little more than a quail. When, later on, they made him remember, he thought he had become a lucky hero. With this ingrown relative of his, the distrustful demons would lose their domination. With his accomplice, the enemies' drinks would be dry, the food stinging. He would always win, leaping every lap carrying the friend of his vitals over banners and sword-hilts. He chose a life without battles. But every night he wrestles with an animal of a distorted species, grown for so many seasons in symbiosis with a human being: who tries to immerse it in a marsupial marsh. Every night the animal with two diminutive front legs begs him, and with two huge rear ones destines him to brutal ruin. Every morning he wakes up duller, wasted by sleep as though life were leaving him behind: he wouldn't like the struggle to end without a mark without a wound. Used by permission of Story Line Press. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 6 by CONRAD AIKEN ALMANACH DU PRINTEMPS VIVAROIS by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO MARY CHURCH TERRELL - LECTURER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WORDS INTO WORDS WON'T GO by CLARENCE MAJOR DOMESDAY BOOK: AT NICE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IMPRESSIONS OF FRANCOIS-MARIE AROUET (DE VOLTAIRE) by EZRA POUND |