——
Nothing will penetrate your sorrow.
Or your loneliness.
This I know.
And yet
here I am singing
a song about doors
at the bottom of dark wells
stuffed already
with rats and corpses.
Here I am telling you
that in reality
and as improbable
as it may seem:
There is no (doorless)
bottom
to this life.
The Voracious Bibliophile 