In case you forgot, the following poem was listed by Justice as being one of his “chance methods” experiments.
“The Success”
He asked for directions, but the street
Was swaying before him drunkenly.
The buildings leaned together. There was some
Conspiracy of drawn curtains against him.
And all around him he could sense the beauty
Of unnseen arms, of eyes that slid off elsewhere.
Someone was living his life there, someone
Was turning back sheets meant to receive his body.
This was the address if not the destination.
The moonlight die along his wrist. His hand
Slipped off through the darkness on its stubborn mission,
Roving the row of mailboxes for the name it dreamed.
He entered. The doorman vanished with a nod.
The elevator ascended smoothly to his desire.
The light in the hall, the door against his cheek…
He had arrived. He recognized the laughter.
Did you miss it? Here’s the crucial line: “…he could sense the beauty/of unseen arms, of eyes that slid off elsewhere./Someone was living his life there…”
Someone was living his life there, huh? Gee I wonder who that could be…oh wait, CHANCE! This concept of an unknown force pervades the poem, “There was some/Conspiracy of drawn curtains against him.” “Slipped off along the darkness,” “Doorman vanished.” The central idea of this poem is chance governing our lives but there’s one more important question. Where is The Success?
The last line: “He had arrived. He recognized [italics are my own] the laughter.” After four stanzas of “unseen arms,” conspiracies, and being ruled by chance, he finally recognizes something. That sole feeling of familiarity in his life of obscurity is The Success.
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