. . . if I in my north room

            dance naked, grotesquely

            before my mirror

            waving my shirt round my head

            and singing softly to myself:

            "I am lonely, lonely.

            I was born to be lonely,

            I am best so!"

            If I admire my arms, my face,

            my shoulders, flanks, buttocks

            against the yellow drawn shades,--

 

            Who shall say I am not

            The happy genius of my household?

 

              --William Carlos Williams