song_for_prufrock

The dark sun rises and its echo resounds across the endless sky. A gray smoke sinks and slides over the lake and my eyes. Dare to disturb the universe—measure your life by the yardstick of the man on the moon, compress it into a ball, crumple it, see the ridges, the edges and the folds, the shadows where the light never strikes, contemplate the luminous landscapes that turn, turn, stretch flat—but in tatters, wear white flannel trousers and sing how wonderful it would be to do anything.