From the Fishouse

That we each have a number assigned to us
Thanks be to the devil for the idea of sequence

That we each have forgotten our numbers
Thanks be to the gods for a child's memory

That we each have a name, or three, assigned to us
Thanks be to the devil for sound marrying sense

That we each have forgotten the way to our house, apartment, farm
Thanks be to angels for the scent of chrysanthemums

That we each were the consequence of war, poverty, illness, death, despair, or hope
Thanks be to each other for what we call society

That we each will be buried with the bodies of our mothers
Thanks be to the stars for the constancy of matter that cannot be destroyed

That we each will be buried with the bodies of our fathers
Thanks be to the metal that will unskin the world