I wish I could tell you what or why.
I’m tired, worn out with thinking…
And I just don’t know.
That’s the closest I can come to truth.
Punt! Punt and let the other guy,
the other team,
Do what they think should be done.
Why not? I’ve got nothing.
I’m not even sure of this much, but I think,
maybe, anything’s better than nothing.
The world is full of people who think—
know—just what to think, what to do.
God bless them! No, I really mean that:
God bless them…and why not?
I mean, I’ve thought about it—every it—
and all that I know, for sure, is that:
I just do not know.
So God bless the ones that do know.
Life, for instance. Yes? No?
Would anybody who’s been alive,
I mean anybody who has been here
for a while, who’s really thought about
Themselves caught-up in the big picture,
if they knew, before their miraculous
Conception, what they know now,
would they choose to be born?
Do we really want to be what we are?
For instance, does it make sense,
To anybody, that most of life
makes a living by killing and eating
Some other living thing?
In fact, genetically speaking,
Killing and eating some, maybe, distantly,
but genetically related life form?
Cannibalism! That is what it is, isn’t it?
So, this is life: Cannibalism?
A Hill resident, the author believes that the appreciation of art should not be influenced by the vagaries or prejudices of biography.
