I cannot live withYou It would be Life And Life is over there Behind the Shelf.
If only to be born were being invented Merely, or, better still, to concoct oneself From an antique alembic, a receipt. How splendid To take the phial cleanly from its shelf; Powders and liquids, all one's favourite hues Making the being one would be, the looker at stars Or storks on the spires of Denmark, drinker of dews, Or an eye simply.
Man hands on misery to man. It deepens like a coastal shelf. Get out as earlyas you can, And don't have any kids yourself.
People find ideas a bore becausetheydo not distinguish between live ones and stuffed ones on a shelf.
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