So some words banish us from us
and some are singing as they leave the park
maybe a story is a wicked thing
tell what happened but not the happening?
better the man alone in a room
music comes somehow in
and nothing said or said not much
just let us look at a man all by himself
a woman sitting in her house alone
what kind of story could be better than silence
as if in Ovid a girl is changed into a girl
and there is no self to distract us with green leaves.
No special moment for the clock to stop
o I’ll get a headline out of that
you hear me better when you aren’t listening
government a fancy word for the police
anybody knows what you mean but not what you say
saying is dark dark a tree lost in a forest
pluck this fruit and name yourself again
a nobody slipping under the giant’s reach
Polyphemus is radar crouch to be unknown
miracle of neglect the oil of absence sweet
and so Blake seldom saw the sea and if he did
its size itself dissuaded him from the transports of love.