|
To be considered a poet, one has to write
poems from time to time, whether “inspired” or not. This poem resulted
from the realization that my rate of output (one poem per month or so in
good times) was falling below par. I had only written three poems
in 2006—it was already August—and two of those were related. Yes, I had
been distracted, but I had begun to wonder if I’d lost the knack. I
decided I had to write a poem about something, so I simply let my
mind wander.
So why Mercury? I have no idea, but I do
miss that naïve time when high school chemistry students could play with
little pools of mercury without anyone’s having apoplexy over it. I even
did a science project in my junior year on polarography, an analytical technique that
involves the use of mercury.
I began the poem thinking of Lewis Carroll’s
Mad Hatter. There is widespread agreement that the
character in Alice in Wonderland was inspired by an
occupational disease of hat makers caused by their use of mercury
compounds. There is much information on the Web concerning the
environmental hazards of mercury, with that of the
EPA being
especially extensive. Much public attention of late has been devoted to
mercury levels in fish and to power plants as sources of mercury
pollution. Because I was not familiar with all the hazards of mercury, I
had to research the subject before I could write about it.
My poem is partly a lament that such an
entertaining and beautiful material—mercury is the only elemental metal
that is a liquid at room temperature—is also dangerous. I would describe
it as a humorous, environmental poem, which is hardly what I set out to
write—light verse with a serious message. That message, seemingly, is
more timely than I knew. Shortly after I wrote it (between 8/13/2006 and
8/15/2006), I received the September 11, 2006, issue of
Time, which
contained an article called “Mercury Rising.” New studies, the magazine
reported, show
distressing mercury levels in song birds and raptors, and wetlands should be considered “mercury time bombs.”
Wetlands are
repositories of mercury that can release “hundreds of years’ worth of
mercury that precipitated from the atmosphere” if hit by wildfire, a
possibility made more likely by global warming.
I made revisions to the poem on 9/14/2006,
changing the eighth and ninth couplets, which originally were:
|
That power plant upwind could make
A poison bank of stream or lake.
Beware that certain kinds of fish
Can make a rather risky dish.
|
The first of these couplets was the hardest
to write. One can hardly discuss the hazards of mercury without
mentioning power plant emissions, so the verse is essential, but
incorporating the necessary technical information into two short lines
of verse was a challenge. Readers convinced me that my first effort did
not meet that challenge. The word “bank” was problematic. I used it in
the sense of a store or repository, not as the land bordering a body of
water. My word choice was dictated by the need for a one-syllable word,
but “bank” was not the ideal one, and its proximity to “stream or
lake” only confused matters. The substituted “poison bath” for “poison
bank” is a trifle technical, but it works better on several levels. Note
also the substitution of “can” for “could,” which mirrors tense use in
the rest of the poem.
The couplet about eating fish seemed
adequate when I wrote it, but a friend pointed out that “certain fish”
is rather bland, which made me realize that “rather” isn’t a very
colorful word either. The substituted lines are both more vivid and more
informative.
— LED, 9/14/2006 |
