who can write about joy

who can write about joy in the scum-caked boiling pot
is it the lover, whose rose-colored sights tickle us until
we sing bored; or the traitor, who admires both the scum
and the boil; or the privileged, who floats above, savoring
a gentle steam bath; or the negligent, who skips over woes
like a rock on the lake? there is an answer to this poem-
question, buried beneath the stomp of my foot, between
the clap of your hands.