Deviationist

To wish on a star today is inadmissible. All know better than to run for a rainbow s end. We have learned not to expect little attentions from fairies; And none regrets Santa Claus exposed as the fraud he always was.

Dew does not fall: teachers must correct the poets. The tracks are not made by snowmen: we have that straight. Angels are a figure of compliment over teacups, While out where God crumpled we have founded reality With a dead dog in free-fall to signal our escapedom.

Nevertheless our young may still dally with bondage. It is necessary to record all wanton acts of regression. This instance anomalous surely, but typically revealing An atavism of certain delinquent parents Who inhabit romantic antiquity and repeat odd stories, Stubborn against convenience, not even providing TV - The classic substandard background of old believers, The children benighted victims .. .

This duogenarian heir to the bounty of science In 1960 October, seven-thirty p.m., on his birthday, In all respects seemingly normal - Conditioned to vehicles, jet boom, sirens, Earthmovers, newsphotos, riveters - After hours happy with giftware sent by relations (Revolvers, submarines, missiles), correct world-wresting gear By which to grow to space conquest;

After festive supper and approved bathroom observance, Held over the crib by his mother just prior to sleep, Observing our target satellite in optimum crescent view, He secretively gazed as she humored him (Who knows what telepathed promptings from mother to son?), Then suddenly infatuate, purposeful - Oh original error and teleological craving! Lifting his mouth and his open hand misguided, Blew to that vacant orb a fallacious kiss.

Middle bury, Vt.