Like some juggler, faltering, who drops
Circling, rapid balls of words and stops
To relate obscure, pretentious tales,
Hiding nervous moments where he fails?”
Torban, visiting from Mars, became
Silent, and his smile, like mental fame,
Rescued the obscurity of flesh.
Then I answered with a careful, fresh
Purchase from the scorned shop of my mind.
“Men must advertise the things they find.