No man’s an island, said John Donne,
But all men wish that they were one;
An island – and I’m its dweller
To do as I will-so-ever.
What a luxury life that would be,
To swim butt-naked in the sea,
And to walk about in the nude
Without anyone to call it rude.
No persons round to entertain
Pretending to laugh at the inane.
Just me, and nature, and my guts,
Testing the brassness of my nuts,
To be in the wild, in the raw,
To risk my life like Man’s made for.
My dominion, my land, my home,
My island, my city, my own:
And there I would be so happy,
Content, neither hard nor easy:
And there I would be just myself,
Truly, that person inside myself,
Without the messing of my mind
That changes as a social blind:
To be myself, without the others,
I and this Island to discover.
No man’s an Island. Well I’ll try
To get there long before I die.