I prefer to sleep and dream

I prefer to sleep and dream than face

this solitary room. No pity, I go on

without a drink and look with gay eyes on

my future in a forest or a city, someplace.

It's very amusing, what a middle class boy

like me came to, isolated in the northwest

corner of this island, caught in the deepest

loneliness and yet in my heart all this joy.

Surrounded by buildings I am not at peace

yet strangely I am, not like a zen

master but as a man in the wind who when

most despairing and oppressed is most released.

Old records, old unloved books. Sara's cheek

is a source of pleasure, but she has a friend

with whom to share it and can depend

on him for companionship throughout the week.

So I ride the subway home. I look at faces

and they look at mine, mute, animated spirits.

A crazy woman pushes aboard and exhibits

herself. To her, the passengers' glances are caresses.