Bachelor

A mystic in the morning, half asleep,

He is given a vision of the unity

That informs a small apartment, barefooted,

He takes the long view of toes in the bath-tub

And shaves a man whose destiny is mild.

He perceives hidden resemblances; particularly

He is struck by how breakfast equipment imitates her,

The object of his less than mystic dream.

Sunlight, orange-juice, newsprint, kitchenware:

Is it love's trick of doubling? Everywhere

Like those little dogs in Goya, objects show

A gift for mimicry. His coffee is morose.

A clock goes off next-door where probably

Someone has parodied his dream; and here

The solemn little mongrels of the day

Stare out at him, trying to look like her.

They leer and flirt

				Let saints and painters deal

With the mystery of likeness. As for him,

It scares him wide awake and dead alone;

A man of action dials the telephone.