Saturday, May 28, 2016

Becausation

It happens to us, not we
To it. We happen to us,
Not us to we. Us happens
To us, not us to us. Too
Much happens to us, poor us.
Us happen nothing at all.
Look out that sunlit window

The last line conjured for us.
Light, most unreliable
Of narrators, deceives us,
Neither particle nor wave.
How lighthearted I've become
Here near the end of the poem.
I must trust I will not fall.

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