Ancillary Advantages
Ancillary advantages of an answerless
Existence are made manifest
In the margins between questions
And the ever expanding silences—
Very frustrating—but then it gets boring,
Your mind wanders off, gets lost
In the rescissions of reasons.
You start to toss stones through the moon
And listen for the tiny plinkings
On the other side of the galaxy..
You think how lucky we are Christ
Came around in the era when Crucifixion
Was the standard mode of execution.
If it had been the 19th century
We’d all be wearing necklaces
Of some poor limp Savior dangling
Crooked-necked from a hangman’s noose.
At some point life becomes
Simply the one we chose
But only when it’s too late to choose
Anything else.
It’s like getting mad at a bonfire
For making you feel uncomfortably hot
And because you think you hear it laughing
At your low brow complacency.
It’s not laughing, the flames are trying
To tell you something.
Air crackling out of the burning dead wood
Is the fire tsk-tsking your pointless perseverating.
Someone asks what makes fires so mesmerizing
As a way to break the silence
So someone else puts on another log
And the fire clears its throat
Just before it begins to answer.
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