Essay on Novels
Their shambling power and verisimilitude,
their mimetic resemblance to souvenir Yuletide
snowstorm paperweights in which we discover
our tiny selves shoveling silver glitter,
or scrimshawed whale's teeth, or
ships-in-bottles, or breath-fogged mirrors,
fanciful, delimited, craft-wise, time-bound,
toothsome and foredoomed as mastodons
crossing the tundra page by page
through the last ecstatic blizzard of the Ice Age.
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