The Dead Man

I once saw a naked bike ride going over Waterloo Bridge in central London. I thought it was a really fantastic image of the human spirit. Here we go, not waving but drowning. Nobody heard him, the dead man, but still he lay moaning. Poor chap, you always love larking and no he's dead. Must have been too cold for him, his heart gave way,. Still the dead one lay moaning. I was much further out than you thought. That's what he said. And that could be, I think, that he's separated from others, that he is an outsider. He's being an outsider for ever.