the little cough somewhere, an odour, a chime.
And there is another thing he has in mind
like a grave Sienese face a thousand years
would fail to blur the still profiled reproach of. Ghastly,
with open eyes, he attends, blind.
All the bells say: too late. This is not for tears;
thinking.
But never did Henry, as he thought he did,
end anyone and hacks her body up
and hide the pieces, where they may be found.
He knows: he went over everyone, & nobody's missing.
Often he reckons, in the dawn, them up.
Nobody is ever missing.
While this is on the one hand a chilling end to a stanza that speaks of methodical murder (Henry feels as guilty as a murderer, even though he isn’t one), if it is read as a positive statement, this can also be understood to say that there is always a “nobody” who is missing from the present scene, and this underscores the importance of understanding Henry’s dream-speech as that of an unrecognized person on the fringes of society. 
 Alternatively, or in addition, the line suggests that all the people in Henry’s life remain a part of his psyche: he can never forget them, if only because he feels so guilty toward them.
Dream Song 29