I hesitated to read this particular poem tonight,
the one I'm about to read, because then everybody
would know why I like to wear sunglasses.
So-- so I'm taking a chance.
Besides, I'm leaving town after.
This is called "Sometimes I Am a Sponge."
"Sometimes I am a sponge.
Pores open wide to receive this liquid called
life in its essence and almost unnoticeable
gift for each of us.
Oftentimes overlooked by fear, apathy,
or whatever seems to precede living.
I am a sponge who wears prescription sunglasses,
shading eyes that just have to stare,
being easily entertained, educated, and quickly intrigued
by what we think and how we behave as human beings.
My mother never realized she raised that Tse va ho, someone
who's not afraid to stare.
From the pastel iridescent in reds, purples, and oranges
that wash daily over the skies at Waeh Sa Poo,
to the arch women easily curve into as they
bend to gather cooking wood, or a crying baby finding irony
in women who perch precariously on high heels
during icy winter months.
Absorbing the tragic desecration of our land as beer cans
are thoughtlessly tossed from passing cars.
Witnessing children's confusion, their questions
hushed by preoccupied adults as youthful wonder clouds
into inhibition, yet I see these same children
moving grandparents to tears of joy by simply laughing.
All of this, all of it gets soaked up
storing in a chamber called my heart.
And when the sponge is full, it gets wrung out.
Rung out into these clay forms you see I offer you.
Rung out into these words, you hear that I offer you."
[APPLAUSE]