An aborted attempt to write my Doyle response as an homage to Coleridge’s “Kubla Khan.” No, I don’t know why. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but it was taking too long.
With humblest apologies to S. T. Coleridge
In Wetwares did Richard Doyle
A new subjectivity decree:
Where bodies freeze to not despoil
Enraptured by the mortal coil
Well into eternity.
The pleasures of the flesh persist
In the freezing cold cryonic tryst:
Subjects wait, suspended, neither now nor then;
Ignorant of time and its contingency;
Hoping to wake, alive, renewed again,
In Two Thousand Ninety-three.