I was careful with the care
of my gigantic aspirations
once upon a time,
based on their size,
irregular borders, and
fragility.
No more. I’ve made them
smaller and harder. No more
are they built upon
some improbable dream of
fame; not focused upon legacy.
They’ve lost the glassy
shine and brittle
enormity of grandeur.
What I’ve settled on instead
is a longing for invisibility.
To become a stone underfoot
in Evil’s path, kicked aside
after breaking its stride;
better still, to be tossed through
a mansion window
in the Last Battle; best of all,
to be one small piece buried
in the foundation of the Next World.
I aspire to be forgotten
but sturdy. Absent,
indispensable. Insignificant, solid.
