Flak. An eventful thought came to me,

who squirm in my hole. How will the matter end?

Who’s king these nights?

What happened to … day? Are ships abroad?

I would like to but may not entertain a friend.

Save me from ghastly frights,

Triune! My wood or word seems to be rotting.

I daresay I’m collapsing. Worms are at hand.

No, all that froze,

I mean the blood. ‘O get up & go in’

somewhere once I heard. Nowadays I doze.

It’s cold here.

The cold is ultimating. The cold is cold.

I am—I should be held together by—

but I am breaking up

and Henry now has come to a full stop—

vanisht his vision, if there was, & fold

him over himself quietly.