Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.
My name means gift from god.
But how can I be a gift from a thing that doesn’t exist,
or from an idea I don’t believe in?
I suppose it’s the thought that counts.
When out in this city, or that one across the bay, I would often think, “These bloody homeless people everywhere all the time…”
Sometimes I still do.
Especially on the train when all I want is peace:
Stands at the sea . . . wonders at wondering . . . I . . . a universe of atoms . . . an atom in the universe.
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.