Nothing is so not here as something without
People in it, which is why we shake our heads
To marvel at the inspiring light. An hour
Without a person in it not in the head
Holds all the unreality of magic,
Which is all inside the persons in the head.
Nothing, of course, otherworldly about it,
Nothing otherworldly about us, either,
Nor about about any combination of worlds,
Except insofar as pillars of madness
Stand athwart admixtures of nothing is all.