Rita Dove
Rita Dove (Akron, 28 augustus 1952)De Amerikaanse schrijfster en dichteres Rita Frances Dove werd geboren op 28 augustus 1952 in Akron, Ohio. In 1987 ontving zij de Pulitzer prijs voor haar gedichtencyclus Thomas and Beulah. De inspiratie ervoor vond zij in het levensverhaal van haar grootouders. Die hadden in de eerste helft van de 20e eeuw de zuidelijke staten verlaten om in het noorden naar werk te zoeken. Van 1993 tot 1995 was Rita Dover Poet Laureate van de VS. Zij was zowel de jongste persoon aan wie die eer te beurt viel als ook de eerste persoon van afro-amerikaanse afkomst.
History
Everything's a metaphor, some wise
guy said, and his woman nodded,
wisely.
Why was this such a discovery
to him? Why did history happen
only on the outside?
She'd watched an embryo track
an arc across her swollen belly from
the inside and knew she'd best
think knee, not tumor or burrowing mole,
lest it emerge a monster.
Each craving marks the soul:
splashed white upon a temple the dish
of ice cream, coveted, broken
in a wink, or the pickle duplicated
just behind the ear.
Every wish will find its symbol,
the woman thinks.
Adolescence II
Although it is night,
I sit in the bathroom, waiting.
Sweat prickles behind my knees,
the baby-breasts are alert.
Venetian blinds slice up the moon;
the tiles quiver in pale strips.
Then they come, the three seal men
with eyes as round As dinner plates
and eyelashes like sharpened tines.
They bring the scent of licorice.
One sits in the washbowl,
One on the bathtub edge;
one leans against the door.
"Can you feel it yet?" they whisper.
I don't know what to say, again.
They chuckle,
Patting their sleek bodies with
their hands.
"Well, maybe next time."
And they rise, Glittering like pools
of ink under moonlight,
And vanish. I clutch at the
ragged holes
They leave behind, here at
the edge of darkness.
Night rests like a ball of fur
on my tongue.
