When Locked Up...

Der Sonnenschlucker (The Sun Eater)

Painting by Joan Miró

FABLE FOR WHEN THERE'S NO WAY OUT
—May Swenson

Grown too big for his skin,

and it grown hard,

without a sea and atmosphere—

he's drunk it all up—

his strength's inside him now,

but there's no room to stretch.

He pecks at the top

but his beak's too soft;

though instinct and ambition shoves,

he can't get through.

Barely old enough to bleed

and already bruised!

In a case this tough

what's the use

if you break your head

instead of the lid?

Despair tempts him

to just go limp;

Maybe the cell's 

already a tomb,

and beginning end

in this round room.

Still, stupidly he pecks

and pecks, as if from under

his own skull—

yet makes no crack . . .

No crack until 

he finally cracks,

and kicks and stomps.

What a thrill

and shock to feel

his little gaff poke

through the floor!

A way he hadn't known or meant.

Rage works if reason won't.

When locked up, bear down.

_____________________

—Medusa