Two Realities
By Aldous Huxley
A wagon passed with scarlet wheels
And a yellow body shining new.
“Splendid!” said I. “How fine it feels
To be alive, when beauty peels
The grimy husk from life.” And you
Said, “Splendid!” And I thought you’d seen
The wagon blazing down the street;
But I looked and saw that your gaze had been
On a child that was kicking an obscene
Brown ordure with his feet.
Our souls are elephants, thought I,
Remote behind a prisoning grill,
With trunks thrust out to peer and pry
And pounce upon reality;
And each at his own sweet will
Seizes the bun that he likes the best
And passes over all the rest.