Forget the ten-gallon bucket to catch you
at the foot of the sky-scraper.
Jump into a well with an open umbrella.
Enjoy your flutter
And fall, pleasure always an escape from
gravity
That is actually a surrender. Wear a black
suit, bowler, shirt and tie,
For a fun costume. Your "Ahhhhhhhhh!"
will roar like Samson.
When eye to eye with a subdued but startled frog,
you may hear occult dripping,
"Plop, plop, plop." You have hit bottom.
Your legs will be wet,
It will be dark, and everything will feel things
to be confining
Yet unsolid. Try to be serious about your
situation. Answer
Its mute question, its implicit, "Well?"
with intelligent honesty,
Which in this case, this massive and intentional
misadventure,
In no way in heaven or earth an accident, may
be at last extended silence.
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