Equipped with an imagination for disaster,
you never seem to anticipate the real disasters.
They leave you stunned, with no second line
of defense. Then, after days or weeks,
you begin to celebrate them, reciting inwardly
their advantages, how they free up
the imagination for a while. Not that what happened
was exactly falling-down funny. No,
it was like curtains in the colorful world of death.

This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 5 Number 8, on page 42
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