I open curled fax-paper wings
flap uselessly from the ragged sofa
just a time-circuit transmission.
Original's back there in a mansion
with a supermodel a yacht in Cannes
a Maserati in Monza and laughing
all the way to the toilet. I see him
a quasar billions of light years away
the brightest thing in heaven.
I went wrong thirty years ago
picked up the phone early
stepped on a yellow beetle.
He split off, let the phone ring.
Jain-like he donated a lifted foot
to the yellow beetle.
Ripples spread money passed
he didn't buy magazines with
can't fail investment offers.
put it in Genentech
Miracle cures and hair therapy
don't work on Xerox copies.
For a while I was A4 size
but now even that looks good.
The last letters fade away and
I see him
nodding into his dream