back ~ home ~ up ~ next poet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Ultimate

 

When dreams have turned to dust and dust to slime;

When all you ever were or hoped to be

Appears as no more than a jest of time,

A foolish jest, a tasteless parody

 

On some unlikely fiction; when not just

Your dear pretensions but your best ideals

Have been ground down into an acrid dust

That you are forced to eat for all your meals;

 

When—oh, but what can metaphor provide

Sufficient in its scope to comprehend

The fury never to be satisfied

Of one betrayed by a once-trusted friend?

 

David Berman

 

 

© David Berman.  Reprinted by permission of the author.

Background by Nyanna

back ~ home ~ up ~ next poet