Maybe my life was meant to be this way:
Appear conscious, wasting time,
Nodding if in agreement,
Waving my two hands if proposing an antithesis
And then sleep.
Dream: neglect is not always ignorance
For impermanence will stipulate
That humans are always
In the process of forgettting.
Sadness grips my heart with the pang
Of Christ at the pillar--
The Roman soldiers reciting their latin numbers
Whose pluralities are made possible
Without the "s" but with the double "i"
As in "i and i"--
I am envious.
I have always been singular
And maybe life is like that:
We remain this singularity
Amid a world where there is ni crowd
Just ants passing through
