Of Memory and Distance

Russell Edson
     It’s a scientific fact that anyone entering the distance will
grow smaller. Eventually becoming so small he might only be
found with a telescope, or, for more intimacy, with a 
microscope.... 

     But there’s a vanishing point, where anyone having
penetrated the distance must disappear entirely without hope 
of his ever returning, leaving only a memory of his ever having
been. 

     But then there is fiction, so that one is never really sure if 
it was someone who vanished into the end of seeing, or
someone made of paper and ink....

Copyright © 2005 Russell Edson. Used with permission of BOA Editions, Ltd.

Copyright © 2005 Russell Edson. Used with permission of BOA Editions, Ltd.

Russell Edson

by this poet

poem

For breakfast a man must break an egg. Then not all the king's horses and all the king's men can do very much about it.

Past perfect the broken egg no longer breaks, a dead man no longer dies...

And as he spills the broken egg into a frying pan he murmurs, Ah, well, too bad about Humpty Dumpty...

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