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.