They were introduced cute in the “Great Hall” and for months
it seemed like they were old chairs visited again
and again. On the last again,

father “fantastic” called him a no-knowing-nobody,
and applauded the Canucks with schnooks. I mean
to tell you it was ridiculous

and yet it was telling
the men from the fish, from the mice—yellow
from All American Red, and he “sighed”
when it was over. No one seemed to understand
there was no good news

to cling to. You can’t fake it, you know—
you can’t just look up to someone—
you can’t just build a ladder—and now
you can’t shout in the “Great Hall”
without hearing the hollow echoes.