in media res
Like Kino, none of us
pined to find this pearl,
the Pearl of the World,
the pearl to pay bills for
some scorpion’s sting,
Nod’s scourge of nature.
Cicadae of cancer returns
to my brother’s brain.
As was the case a quarter
century past, the bolus
lays above the stem,
the size of Kino’s pearl.
What irritant decides to
roost again inside my
brother’s head? What gel
turns gem-like to circle
’round the sore? Who
governs such design?
Who fathoms such store?
Who gathers who frames
into stanzas, who blathers
in signs without sense
who follows who’d rather
resign from it all……
At my brother’s bedside
I look into his eyes and
see in each an different
kind of pearl: a Peter
sand-to-stone, a faith
that pulls him through.
So, in media res, spare
a prayer for Kino, Juana,
lepers they defied to be.
Our brother transcends
such praline dreams.
He prays instead for thee.
I downloaded The Pearl to read on my phone between fencing bouts. Never read it before, but I'm already halfway through. What a great style Steinbeck gives this story, with an almost biblical, parable-like narrative. And the rhythm of the family song...
ReplyDeleteYour poem is rich, Dan, but I wonder, as the subtitle suggests (in medias res?), if there isn't more to tell still. Going forward, of course there will be - but if this is told in medias res, in the midst of things, maybe more flashback... to the "praline dreams" of Kino and Juana?