What Is It?

Bob, ,

Something gathers up the guesses,

Stalks the wild throes and strange fits,

Arrives at probability

We pass as answers.

There is the bumble

In the be all of our lives,

The sorrow and the silence of our

Hearts when they are lightest,

And worst and nothing more,

The crumpled sunlight

Passing for debris,

The rubble of stars,

My bare feet.

11 thoughts on “What Is It?”

  1. if i were a born again christian, i’d insist that I know “who gathers up the guesses” and “stalks the wild throes and strange fits,” but i’m not a born again christian, but i have to admit, it would consoling to be one, but i much prefer the third line here – “arrives at probability.”

    Side note – I wear long socks because I live in a basement and it’s often cold down here, but after reading the last line, “my bare feet,” I threw away my socks and sipped a little whisky and well, the shitty workday faded and now i feel better.

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    1. Thanks Steve! I prefer probability too. I hear you about the shitty day at work. My day at work was pretty bad as well. Glad you had some whiskey and were able to feel better. Do you see the guy jump on the field at the Brewer’s game? Also, I still have to go through my old cards…maybe this weekend…and see if I have any Brewers.

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