WHEN I am clothed I am a moral man,
and unclothed, the word has no meaning for me.
When I put on my coat, my coat has pockets
and in the pockets are things I require,
so I wish no man to pick my pocket
and I will pick the pocket of no man.
A man’s business is one of his pockets, his bank account too
his credit, his name, his wife even may be just another of his pockets.
And I loathe the thought of being a pilferer
a pick-pocket,
That is why business seems to me despicable,
and most love-affairs, just sneak-thief pocket-picking
of dressed-up people.
When I stand in my shirt I have no pockets
therefore no morality of pockets;
but still my nakedness is clothed with responsibility
towards those near and dear to me, my very next of kin.
I am not yet alone.
Only when I am stripped stark naked I am alone
and without morals, and without immorality.
The invisible gods have no moral truck with us.
And if stark naked I approach a fellow-man or fellow-woman
they must be naked too,
and none of us must expect morality of each other:
I am that I am, take it or leave it.
Offer me nothing but that which you are, stark and strange.
Let there be no accommodation at this issue.