Page:Big Sur (1963).djvu/203

BIG SUR193

of sick mortality—
We try to make our way
in self reliance, aid
not ever comes too quick
from wherever & whatever
heaven dear may have
suggested to promise us—

But these waves scare me—
I am going to die
in full despair—
Wake up where?
On second breath in life
the atmosphere is dearer
maybe closer to Heaven
———O Paradise———
Is the sea really so bad?
Have you sent men
here for this cold clown
& monstrous eater at the
world? whose sound
I mock?

God I’ve got to believe in you
or live in death!
Will you save us—all?
Soon or now?
Send illumination
to our drowning brains
—We’re pitiful, Lord,
we need yr help!
Save us, Dear—
(Save yourself, God man,
ha ha!)
If you were God man
you’d command these waves
to very well Tennyson stop
& even Tennyson
is dear
now dead