You laughed for the marrow in their bones that was not yet ready for laughter;
And you wept for their eyes that yet were dry.
Your voice fathered their thoughts and their understanding.
Your voice mothered their words and their breath.

Proud bones such as yours the world finds rare;
These are the crags of a true eccentric.
You wield your brush like a roof beam, propelled by wine;
From out your bosom pour rugged rocks.

Proud bones such as yours the world finds rare;
These are the crags of a true eccentric.
You wield your brush like a roof beam, propelled by wine;
From out your bosom pour rugged rocks.

Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes;
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.