I promised myself
then—and I promise
again here
upon this very formally
white
page—now stained
with hours
and hours of unique-
ly concentric coffee
cup ring flowers—and invisibly
ablaze
with the shapes
and the imprints of
such letters
as could only comprise
words
in illustrious
richly explosive new combinations
to write—
not
so much fast
but very
very hard—and furious; and of course
and always
always
al-
ways
concerning—first,
those littlest things
that don't seem to matter.
For it seems
to me—from this exhausted
point of vantage
that man-
kind
is
bereft
not—of satisfying
or great
or happy endings—but rather,
of proper
and decent
kinds
of those
things altogether.
