Walking around... It is so happens I'm tired of just being somebody. I go to my TV shair, drop in at the shop's-it so happens-feeling wizened and numbed, like a big, woolly swan, awash on an ocean of clinkers and causes...

It so happens I'm fed up-
with my feet and my fingernails
and my hair and my shadow.
Being a man leaves me cold:
That's how it is.

Still --- it would be lovely
to be a man...
Without all the trouble we
have to go through before
Christmas.

Only to be ourselves.