Magnifying Glass on top of Boswell’s Life of Johnson.

Magnifying Glass on top of Boswell’s Life of Johnson.

Concave or convex in the midmost of his imagination
A Samuel Johnson at large would view under the glass
The world of creatures that do not inhabit the orthodox
Or conventional opionion, he would find there a novel
Relation of enlarged perspective, a newly discovered wit
There he humours the reflected moods of Robert Burton,
So then sad Hamlets perplexed by the ghosts of fathers
Would transfigure mothers into a gigantic melancholy
Which on board would transport Samuel to the Far East,
This coveted and idealised past, this fabulous version
Is an indraught of history which the lonely granivorous
Have with their mueseli, their oats and their sunflower
Seeds can only suffice if they travel no further than a bus route,
For the fucking billionaire the limit is set only by the Space
That is much further and out of the pocket of life ordained
By economy, for we can only get as far as obtainable
Like the tiny speck of dust teeming with allegies and mite
Under this dirt cheap, ten kroner magifying glass
Lying on top of Boswell’s Life of Samuel Johnson.