I am not I. I am this one walking beside me whom I do not see, whom at times I manage to visit, and whom at other times I forget; who remains calm and silent while I talk, and forgives, gently, when I hate, who walks where I am not, who will remain standing when I die. BY JUAN RAMÓN JIMÉNEZ TRANSLATED BY ROBERT BLY http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/182343

The crack is moving down the wall. Defective plaster isn’t all the cause. We must remain until the roof falls in. It’s mildly cheering to recall That every building has its little flaws. The crack is moving down the wall. Here in the kitchen drinking gin, We can accept the damndest laws. We must remain until the roof falls in. And though there’s no one here at all, One searches every room because The crack is moving down the wall. Repairs? But how can one begin? The lease has warnings buried in each clause. We must remain until the roof falls in. These nights one hears a creaking in the hall, The sort of thing that gives one pause. The crack is moving down the wall. We must remain until the roof falls in. by Weldon Kees

_Life has a trend to be absurd as much as bright. It slipped my mind, but then occurred again at night. I tried the door, then tried to sleep. The night was spent. I went away. The path was steep, But had no end._