My torch is sputtering, debilitated for lack of fuel.

I fear it will sputter out!

It is tired, gasping for flame

Almost at the point of surrender:

To chaos, to the overpowering

Vapor of world self-aggrandizement,

To humanity stalled in a quagmire

Of dark, dense, damp, rotten debris

Of biological morass sans spirit,

Sans love, sans enlightenment, sans opportunity --

Overwhelmed by intellect, and technological aptitude

Without beatitude.

I am only a visitor here.

Please do not trouble me

To thread your needle.

I am not of your fiber

Or mode of transport.

Pass me by, unacknowledged.

I merely wait for my train, long delayed.

Luck, to you, on your route to wherever.

Perhaps I will see you again,

Even at a mutual destination.

In the meanwhile, so long and so far,

I wish you as well as possible.

Dated 8/6/1982