beginnings plunged into deep water
cannot overcome such recompense
time’s reserved healing of endless slaughter  
cannot believe in such cold evidence
if i could i would i’d know this right away,
until a wave holds me and submerges
my thoughts and hands that hold onto the bay
close to whatever home this really is.
if then yelling ‘the world is too much with us’
(and if i could i would see right through you)
an abysmal submergence in the mess
(then whoever could call this ‘what i’d do’)  

whatever this is, in the end it’s something to say:
so yes, in the end, i’d wish it all away