TORIBIO

She sends him away for a few hours each day

to the home of his godmother

to learn words

Imagine

    how he must feel in that other home

    where he learns the words

    of verses, plays, sermons, sonnets

    now he’s a parrot, not a poodle

    he listens, listens, listens

    repeats every sound he hears

    from every book in his godmother’s library

The applause

    when he recites at parties amazes him

    just as he amuses them with his French operas,

    a jumble of sound

    meaningless

    in my ears

They toss him gifts of coins and jewels

    silk kerchiefs

    the plumes of rare birds

    as if he could make wings of feathers and words

    instead of playing with these toys

    in his cage

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