173

Then he would withdraw from
            The stairwell and retrace the
                        Coordinates of his previous thought
And once again oscillate within
            The bounds of the black, lacquered
                        Countertop and the table where
Eliot sat with his mouth half open
            And the window, like an
                        Auxiliary device in some obscure
And distant crisis, being forced
            Into a function from which he
                        Was disassociated, being bound by
A wager he had already lost.
            He was a man of intrinsic utility,
                        Moderate enough to not need any
Third party to injure him.
            Eliot sat making facile gestures
                        Towards his cereal bowl and not
Understanding anything about his
            Father. He watched him take
                        His head in his hands and make
A protracted shape with his body
            Over the sink, holding his head
                        As if he were at any moment about
To detach it. He turned to face
            Eliot, and then he went to the
                        Staircase and stood there for some
Time in the process of an abortive act,
            A prolapsed motive. Then something
                        In him yielded : He began to climb.