Adapted for the screen
poem
In the nevernight where all the living are
I, like others of my kind
Sit in empty rooms and dream
Of Isolation
Solitude Supreme
Surrounded by the blue-light ghosts
of all the friends I never had –
(For those born absent from this plane
Insert a toast, whatever is to hand)
And somewhere there is always light
And farther still the distant hum of silver beasts
Crawling up and down the roads at half-past two:
Cry silence, and it never comes
For all my black desires
Are written on my eyes;
And yours are there, and here they slink
Now quick, now blindly round my feet –
Here is time, and none at all,
Here is all the world, and not a soul.




Terrific! Poignant final line.