To see without seeing,
To hear without hearing,
To know without knowing,
Is where the problem lies,
For to lie without lying
Is how the crow flies.
The straws of doubt
Suck the certainty from reality
But doubting doubt does not rout
Delicious chaos from the choice of route
Confronting multiplicities of possibility.
Placing a jigsaw piece does not increase
The peace of decisions of what might be.
Turbid inclinations demand electric powers
Out of unbalanced uncertainties.
Death is always there awaiting.
There is much indicating
There is no compromise.
It will not disguise or surprise
To be aware that the fogs
Of living imperceptions echo
Through the murk with indirection.
The bark of dog or tree linguistically
Can misconstrue how and what we do
And these decisions wriggle into mystery.
We laminate our layers of failure to construct
Foundations of fantasy to duplicate infinities
Into which we lubricate our errors with the terrors
That erect stolid traditions that we presume
Must command subjugation into vicious stupidities.
We trod through puddles of blood that float white bone
Where bubble moans of pain and desperation.
And shudder to be sure of approaching obliteration.
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