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I Need So Help With The Narration Of This Poem!?

I need to write a paper about aspects of narration. I want to use this poem because its form is so different from typical storytelling. However, I can’t figure out where to start with this one. Any pointers?
THE INDIVIDUAL’S SOLILOQUY
I’m the individual.
First I lived by a rock
(I scratched some figures on it)
Then I looked for some place more suitable.
I’m the individual.
First I had to get myself food,
Hunt for fish, birds, hunt up wood
(I’d take care of the rest later)
Make a fire,
Wood, wood, where could I find any wood,
Some wood to start a little fire,
I’m the individual.
At the time I was asking myself,
Went to a canyon filled with air;
A voice answered me back:
I’m the individual.
So then I started moving to another rock,
I also scratched figures there,
Scratched out a river, buffaloes,
Scratched a serpent
I’m the individual.
But I got bored with what I was doing,
Fire annoyed me,
I wanted to see more,
I’m the individual.
Went down to a valley watered by a river,
There I found what I was looking for,
A bunch of savages,
A tribe,
I’m the individual.
I saw they made certain things,
Scratching figures on the rocks,
Making fire, also making fire!
I’m the individual.
They asked me where I came from.
I answered yes, that I had no definite plans,
I answered no, that from here on out.
O.K.
I then took a stone I found in the river
And began working on it,
Polishing it up,
I made it a part of my life.
But it’s a long story.
I chopped some trees to sail on
Looking for fish,
Looking for lots of things,
(I’m the individual.)
Till I began getting bored again.
Storms get boring,
Thunder, lightning,
I’m the individual.
O.K.
I began thinking a little bit,
Supid questions came into my head,
Doubletalk.
So then I began wandering through forests,
I came to a tree, then another tree,
I came to a spring,
A hole with a couple of rats in it;
So here I come, I said,
Anybody seen a tribe around here,
Savage people who make fire?
That’s how I moved on westward,
Accompanied by others,
Or rather alone,
Believing is seeing, they told me,
I’m the individual.
I saw shapes in the darkness,
Clouds maybe,
Maybe I saw clouds, or sheet lightning,
Meanwhile several days had gone by,
I felt as if I were dying;
Invented some machines,
Constructed clocks,
Weapons, vehicles,
I’m the individual.
Hardly had time to bury my dead,
Hardly had time to sow,
I’m the individual.
Years later I conceived a few things,
A few forms,
Crossed frontiers,
And got stuck in a kind of niche,
In a bark that sailed forty days,
Forty nights,
I’m the individual.
Then came the droughts,
Then came the wars,
Colored guys entered the valley,
But I had to keep going,
Had to produce.
Produced science, immutable truths,
Produced Tanagras,
Hatched up thousand-page books.
My face got swollen,
Invented a phonograph,
The sewing machine,
The first automobiles began to appear,
I’m the individual.
Someone set up planets,
Trees got set up!
But I set up hardware,
Furniture, stationery,
I’m the individual.
Cities also got built,
Highways,
Religious institutions went out of fashion,
They looked for joy, they looked for happiness,
I’m the individual.
Afterward I devoted myself to travel,
Practicing, practicing languages
Languages,
I’m the individual.
I looked into a keyhole,
Sure, I looked, what am I saying, looked,
To get rid of all doubt looked,
Behind the curtains,
I’m the individual.
O.K.
Perhaps I better go back to that valley,
To that rock that was home,
And start scratching all over again,
Scratching out everything backward,
The world in reverse.
But life doesn’t make sense.

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