Whiling Away Time
Here we
go again,
asking the
big questions,
clinging to
an eternity
that batters
thru our
craniums
like a
flurry of
gray moths.
What got
the ball
rolling?
Is the
sky omniscient?
Can the
unknown be
challenged?
Pinned to
the mat
for the
count of
three?
Reasoned with
cuddled recognized
on the
cross-town
bus?
Are the
answers embedded
in the
questions?
Would you
trade wisdom
for beauty
if you
had the
chance?
Is beauty
song?
Wisdom
a chemical?
Stand
over here.
Try not
to shout
or
weep bitterly.
Burn
your books
stop thinking
wait
your turn.
Dreams are
the slaughter
house of
assumptions.
You are
but
briefly here.
