Nothing holds me to anything.
I want fifty things at once.
With a meat-hungry anguish I yearn
For what I don't know --
Definitely for the indefinite . . .
Restless I sleep and live in the restless dream
Of someone who sleeps restlessly, half of me dreaming.

They closed all the abstract and necessary doors on me.
They drew the curtains on all the hypotheses I might have seen on the street.
There is no house on the side street with the number they gave me.

I woke to the same life I departed after sleeping.
Even my dream armies suffered defeat.
Even my dreams felt false as I dreamed them.
Even the life I only desire -- even that life -- cloys . . .