AGAINST A BACKGROUND
OF DIAMOND DUST
Against a background of diamond dust I have
nothing worthwhile to say. Things are piled up
everywhere, and I seem insipid to a fault. The
heavy mantle of the sky rings low my hollow
head and things begin to fail, to falter, to droop.
I capture me a waterfly by only the most
sumptuous means. Placing my head down on
a most comforting rock, I close my eyes to
see if my head will fit. There is a crevice
seemingly perfect in shape. A fly fisherman,
so to speak, would never have a better day
than this. My joy should be in a magazine.
-
You have wondered what I was talking
about, what elixir I drank to get this
way, what tablet, perhaps, I ingested.
No, no, it was nothing like that.
Rather, oh bystander, it was this
more than momentary feeling
that I shall, truly, live forever.
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