68: McTeague, 1899, by Frank Norris (1870–1902)
I read this book in college when
I hadn’t read too much before.
I hadn’t heard of Norris then—
But soon enough I wanted more!
I wrote a paper on his work—
Am glad it’s gone so folks can’t see
How much was light, how much was murk,
How much I missed in front of me.
McTeague—a dentist—not too bright.
A get-rich scheme that really flopped.
A desert—unrelenting light—
A bubble of a dream that popped.
I read his other works, as well—
He didn’t live so very long.
But, oh, the stories he could tell!
Sometimes a lifespan’s just so wrong.
But sometimes even brevity
Suffices for an artist to
Create those works that soon will be
The ones enlarging fields of view.
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