Not immediately, but
The day will arrive for my last communion
When I plan to swallow the universe like a raw egg.
After that there will be no more complaining.
Why did I wait so long?
You may well ask: the plan is such an old one,
Even as a baby I might have been sucking away:
I might have cut my teeth on it,
Nibbling off a bit every morning.
I was too modest and doubted my capacity
To consume it all singlehanded; I feared
Dying and leaving behind a half-chewed world.
So I was perfecting the stretch of my jaws,
Padding my teeth like the hammers of a grand piano
To save the works from shock;
Like the crocodile that ate the alarm-clock
I mean it to go on ticking.
This is going to be a successful swallow.
How could I have lived so long
If I had not known that day
Was bound to come in the end?