Pissing in a well
Darkness shot with light, winking and wandering—
It must make sense, or else why wonder?
Wonder is fixing the next meal, surviving
In a world that has no face under
The veil—that has no veil.
Sense is either every sensed detail—
Each loud and tangy, bright and smelly tickling—
Or else it is the bladder’s abstract brother.
Lines in defence of abstraction
A boat chained to a pier will not get far,
And thought tied to the here will not go there—
Let it wander!
The world makes no sense, but it makes much else—
Explore that great expanse within yourself.
Let it wonder!
Just Poems 