Is we don’t agree on the nature of being – indeed, we hardly ever even consider or discuss this – and without this foundation we can’t agree on social boundaries. The problem, moreover, is that being is not inclined to disclose itself definitively. Apparently, it is not our place to know anything with certainty. Given that, maybe we don’t actually have a problem at all, just the illusion of a problem.

            Which leads me to my next poem:

GOD INTENDED IT TO BE A MESS

Obviously