Out of the glandular darkness,
and into the mandibles of the rectangular night,
the two of you constitute quite the delight to our sight.
Like animate trophies some god has bestowed on us,
lauding us as if we’d won the inordinate fight
of finagling through the indicting
incitements of wriggling on
in the hope there was hope,
you help us to cope. You distract us.
You exact our obeisance: oh how we want to foresee
what will be! – assume a belief in a future. And here
you are, suturing us to your warm ineluctable forms
through our eyes. We get to reprise all our silliest lies
and our torpid pronouncements: ridiculous rhymes
full of unconscious content.
Oh, do not relent! Stay till we’ve spent the whole
business of you and the view that you give usof us. Make every last other thing covet us.