ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY Poem by Jan Lauwereyns

Is Mount Kilimanjaro high enough?
To shoot yourself in the back?

When your feet sink in eternal snow.
Well then?

You stretch your arm out,
you drag the iron canine across it.
The dragon in your hand spews fire.

Dragon: space-launcher, bearer of mostly
undesirable objects in an orbit round the earth

were it not for the fact

that the chance of success goes down
with gravity. Headwind?

The number of casualties en route.