I was Lord Byron with a club foot
But unlike my blind waking self
Many people loved me —
And assorted credulous ones
Anyway the dream went on without poetry the way they tend to do…
No one can describe the happiness of others. We’re like dogs barking at hieroglyphs when we talk about emotion.
Christ I spent years studying poetry and all I know is its a dream, this business of inter-personal comprehension. I hardly know myself.
About this life I recognize only a few bare details. I’ve a better chance calming the wind than understanding it.