Insania

Insania 2.28.07

As I bathed I was aware of being alone
in my tub and becoming sad about it, until my
face was only a hysteric mess with a gift
for dripping. I was appalled by short splashes,
erupted at each momentary spasm, drowned finally
in the deep waters of my tub, calmed
by the ripple of unseen waves. A small duck
with rubber skin was hurriedly escaping
a pink and white tiny boat floating over the
dirty green water, saying: ‘squeak squeak,
squeak squeak…’ I decided that if the squeaking
of the duck could be stopped, some of the
toys at the bottom of the tub might be salvaged,
and I searched the small sea with thorough
persistence to this end.

For T.S. Eliot