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The Ultimate


When dreams have turned to dust and dust to slime;

When all you ever were or hoped to be

Appears as no more than a jest of time,

A foolish jest, a tasteless parody


On some unlikely fiction; when not just

Your dear pretensions but your best ideals

Have been ground down into an acrid dust

That you are forced to eat for all your meals;


When—oh, but what can metaphor provide

Sufficient in its scope to comprehend

The fury never to be satisfied

Of one betrayed by a once-trusted friend?


David Berman



© David Berman.  Reprinted by permission of the author.

Background by Nyanna

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