Let’s see, who shall I be? I am a human shell and of course so are you. What shall I fill myself with now? I can wear my latin quarter hat with puce gloves and just say in the most natural tone: when I was in Paris, Boul’Mich, I used to. Feel that? Felt good, no? Real. And now it is for you to say you seem to have enjoyed yourself and yes, I seem. It’s all in the seeming. If it seems not it is not. So then so. Look around, no-one about? Good. Can shift to a new seam. It’s allright, nobody saw. And if caught wearing the wrong seem, well easy enough. Other fellow did it: other me. Which me? Well there’s the me you can see and who the hell that is who can say. Does it matter? Who the hell are you? Who are you to? Who do you think you? Well, you know who you, in all your glorious pluralities. I see you shifting. Where are you anyway? Where makes you who just as much as when. Is that an office? Are you at work? I can’t see. Shift over a bit so I can. Oh I see, now that makes more sense. Of course who you are here is not who you are there. There either. You are free to act this way with these but not that way with those. Fill yourself with yourself, but not all of yourself. Save some for your solitary seem. Nobody knows that who, not even you.