is the preemption of all
dissatisfaction,
the least
appalling method
is unwavering faith
in the bulwark
of concealment.
For instance, always
keep your face
downcast
while you hesitate
to ask,
and keep your hands
shoved deep
in your empty front pockets
whenever you
chance to go out
in a crowd—
that way, no one
with whom you interact
will suspect
that your face can relax
and your hands
will unclench
only when warmed
by the amicable friction
between
the obviousness
of your disappointment
and obliviousness
of its lack.
