Human Being Human Doing

Whether in whispering another line
Of identically numbered syllables
Or in felling a forest, a human

Is feeling useful to other humans,
Which is pretty much all humans can do
To assuage the terror of not being,

Which is not the terror of not being
But the terror of knowing, moments before,
Nothing will never and has never been.

Or maybe not. Terror is a toothache
The tongue returns to probe, returns to probe,
Not the abscess of tooth or probe or tongue.

The usefulness of verses lumbering,
Tongues tonguing, humans humanizing was
Stuff and nonsense human dreams were made of.