TWO REALITIES.
Reading edition
A WAGGON passed with scarlet wheels And a yellow body, shining new. “Splendid!” said I. “How fine it feels To be alive, when beauty peels The grimy husk from life.” And you Said, “Splendid!” and I thought you’d seen That waggon blazing down the street; But I looked and saw that your gaze had been On a child that was kicking an obscene Brown ordure with his feet. Our souls are elephants, thought I, Remote behind a prisoning grill, With trunks thrust out to peer and pry And pounce upon reality; And each at his own sweet will Seizes the bun that he likes best And passes over all the rest.