questions stacked like cities
each dissertation, an abandoned station on the way to some phrase
-like lines in plays,
free from the logical flaws of probable cause
so we might reach down like claws into bedrock.
-but even the most solid base
is floating in space.
How’s that for epistemology?
this subtle eulogy, will stick to you
for a minute or two
before you’re musing on some other stress
well, you’re a sinner at best
but more likely a thinker and
there’s nothing microcosmic about that.
All the day, I’ve been toying with the idea
of enjoying this schema;
opening a bottle of friends to fill with Hawkeye.
We’ll talk all night about horoscopes
and abhor the croaks in charge of life
laying out our morning suit and
But here’s the punchline:
When the Atari grants your wishes,
it’s only time you’ll ask for.