I write down words because I am a speaking animal who will die, who is descended from dead animals who were made the same way.

Words are little holes you can poke your eyes through to touch the dead (if you are reading).

If you are writing they are the little holes you poke your hand through to touch people when they’re walking over your grave. (See Keats.)

I try to be nice to the living ones, the readers, even though as a dead animal I have to envy them somewhat.

Also I try to scare them a little, to keep things lively (so to speak).

Already a dead animal I try also to be a dumb one.

That’s not right though; I am talking all the time.

Dumb as in silly as in I THINK YOU WILL TALK BACK.