A poem that flat out refuses to have an action item. Respect. I'd take that bench too.
I sit on a bench.
Thought
Thought
A poem that flat out refuses to have an action item. Respect. I'd take that bench too.
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Without answers,
without lies,
with nothing to gain,
nothing to hide—save for what brings me not fear, but shame—
nothing to implement as an immediate solution,
I sit on a bench that rises upward,
to contemplate the eternity of never having to resort to thinking about Eternity...
Thoughts
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A poem that flat out refuses to have an action item. Respect. I'd take that bench too.
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Picturing a bench that slowly lifts off while the guy on it does absolutely nothing. Small eternity, then the capital E one he gets to skip thinking about. I lean toward that being the joke of it.
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Without answers,