These spiritual windowshoppers, who idly ask, How much is that? Oh, I’m just looking.
They handle a hundred items and put them down,
Shadows with no capital.
What is spent is love
And two eyes wet with weeping.
But these walk into a shop,
And their whole lives pass suddenly in that moment,
In that shop.
Where did you go?
What did you have to eat?
Even if you don’t know what you want,
To be part of the general exchange.
Start a huge, foolish project like Noah.
It makes absolutely no difference
Think of you.