dissabte, 23 de gener de 2010

The first bite

The moment they drove by laughing
at a slant-eyed yellowback gook
they must have seen a boy
who would never become a man We could say
they were dead wrong/but instead let’s say
this: Their fathers gave them their rage
as my father gave me mine

and from that summer day on we managed
to savor every bloody thing
that belonged to us It was a meal
constantly replenished—a rich
bitterness/we’ve learned to live on for so long
we forget how—like brothers—
we put the first bite in one another’s mouths."

Patrick Rosal, About the white boys who drove by a second time to throw a bucket of water on me.