Ruins: dim evening blues
I'm tired of the world as I understand it
from a chair in my office or living room
sometimes in bed. I wonder what it's all for;
what would it all be if it were stripped
of title and status of money and career
of name and legacy of language and history?
what would it all mean without invention
without tolerance without obstinate materiality
without competition without survival of the fittest?
irony says it might all be meaningless:
if it is, I hope whatever I wanted to do and didn't
was worth it.