When there's too much of me
I stop
and feel uneasy.

It's the perennial theme
the inexorable -the world and me-
it's real--not just does seem.

If there's too much of me
I must assume--the external
of things has encroached on my liberty.

I can only live
outside of me to some degree
beyond such I can't give.

Too much of me
I should not want
it would be a malady.

This, this only
will set me free
when there's little left of me.