The speaker begins with a puzzle: wherever they are, they are "always here," so they call themselves amazing, almost as a joke. But the next lines turn quickly to admiration. The people who can see through two eyes at once seem even more amazing, as if the speaker sees the world differently and feels slightly outside ordinary vision.
The middle part is about limits. The speaker's head is "no kind of wonderful radio": it can't receive far-off messages, and it can't send any either. Yet the tone isn't sad. The speaker simply says they are happy, "inside a crazy great light." Being cut off from communication doesn't ruin that joy.
The ending is dreamlike. When the speaker gets tired, "flying houses and people grow out of" them, as though exhaustion turns into imagination. The mood is gentle, odd, and playful, mixing humility with quiet delight. Judging by the imagery, the poem finds richness in an inner world rather than in connection with others.