In one last all-
out effort
to supplant himself,
he decided simply
to sit—and sit,
and sit, and sit there—unimpressed;
sitting, and so, sitting and sitting—
and so-
on—sitting eventually
so severely
that stiff, bone-
knitting boredom began
to set in.
But then, just as the thickness
of the feeling
threatened to usurp
and unseat him—a thing happened;
and kind of thin cooling
stream of
aesthetic appreciation
began to leach
and leap up from deep within him—and his boredom
became
so precious
and particular to him,
that he realized
he bore it
like some—new credential.
And so—the man leapt
up from his seated position just as
quick
but reluctant-
ly—feeling
ultimately
proud—
that is
to say—utterly defeated.
