Can we have a thought without seeing
it?
Is it more like a wind in the
mind?
Can you know anything without
being it?
Is it only ourselves that we
find
.
when we look at whatever we see?
Is every iota inimitable?
Or is All indistinguishably
just the same – illimitably indivisible:
.
an infantile game where whole
equals part?
Are we irrefutable unity?
Is anything breeding a soul or a
heart?
Can we look into this with impunity?
.
Or will some oligarch at the
scent of dissent
march in with a threat to
exterminate flies
it can swat and get rid of – more
likely attempt
to relieve us of hope: believe in
his probable lies?
.
Bad dream? So what? Spoon up some
ice cream
with Smucker’s sweet strawberry
jam,
and even if Real is revealed as
Fake Scheme,
let’s bake, carve and eat it
like Ham.
.
.
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