It is not dismal, though.

Mr. Gatsby,
Her hands look look just like Barbie's.
If Barbie had a manicure.
So still.
Such peace.
Why can I not taste that?
Put me in the runabout
In a summer's day.
Let an incomplete word remain
Until the day
That swirling over swamp
And flying over sea
Have died.
And may that never come.
Although it must come.