i am grateful for what i am & have.
my thanksgiving is perpetual.
it is surprising how contented one can be
with nothing definite -
only a sense of existence.
well, anything for variety.
i am ready to try this for the next ten thousand years,
& exhaust it.
how sweet to think of!
my extremities well charred, & my intellectual part too,
so that there is no danger of worm or rot
for a long while.
my breath is sweet to me.
o how I laugh when I think of my vague indefinite riches.
no run on my bank can drain it,
for my wealth is not possession but enjoyment