The sun and the moon and other wonderful objects
my mind, rushing about, connects
are just there, they’re there, whatever I may think.
Why am I here, red-faced, shouting at the sink?
Perhaps the world is given only once. It’s certainly odd.
How hard I pray for the absence of God!
The child’s idea: when dead or asleep we float
around in a sort of invisible boat
and because we’re no longer bodies needing air
we can pass through the atmosphere.
What if our after- and before-lives were completely lawless?
Then there would be no sun and moon to say: ignore us.
