Packed up the Dylan and the Man Ray and the JoyceI left a note that said well I guess I got no choiceScuse me girl while I'm kicking it to the curbLeaving with all I need but less than I deserve
And if he had judged her harshly? If her life were a simple rosary of hours, her life simple and strange as a bird's life, gay in the morning, restless all day, tired at sundown? Her heart simple and willful as a bird's heart?
Each imagining himself to be the first last and only alone, whereas he is neither first last nor last nor only not alone in a series originating in and repeated to infinity.