The Advent of Personality
Contact with the outer world, such as
insects caught in the midst
Of metamorphoses or pollywogs discovering
their legs,
May lead to embarrassments, if you haven’t
kept a list
Of all your own accomplishments hanging
from some pegs.
You ought also to consider inner worlds,
For instance, little bubbles of dream in
the early dawn,
When you want to crawl away before the
hungry worms
Lie down to copulate, and linger on the
sunny lawn
Of your own childishness, or streaks of
aspiration
Spewed across your rationality
You cannot hide from consciousness, and
shun
The stains with blushing disavowals. So we
Engage with our own selves behind our
public faces,
Furtively as adolescents tying up their
laces.
Denuded of your
Dignity
In the middle of the night, when the
blankets twist up on one side or another,
And the dreams of distant holidays fall to
the floor, while our arms ache
With so much exercise, a little voice keeps
calling us: Make
A wish, my friends, forget the
inconveniences that smother
Optimism and opportunity. But then, as you
would expect,
Your partner pulls the covers over, without
respect,
And you are left denuded of your
dignity. Thus the other
In all things gains dominance, and you must
shiver.
By the morning’s tepid advent, when your
dreams dissolve
Into repeated calumnies, like a frozen
river
Exploding into chunks of ice, to solve
The mystery of hesitation, jump like Eliza,
Hold on to the last shard of hope, a
hopeless miser.