Not Nihilism, But Still Nothing Of Which To Be Afraid
Or,
The Secret Ingredient Is — Who's Been Messing With This Thing
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If I was a Q-tip where would I be
If I was a Phillip's head driver
If I were my readers what I would not squint to see
If I were a more careful MacGyver
— I remember once having my ducks in a row
My Why equaled my Ex & my Be
I'd yet to learn others could reap what I sow
Or, making me do all the harvesting, just get it — for free
After that something inside me played dead — or just hid
Convincing my innocence thorough
Of reasons (de)pressing & foolish aught of it should be rid
Which only proved much much later that —- I hadn't a clue
—Because now Joy sometime renders my world drama free,
Where perhaps not-to-Be Ifs can have Thens yet to Be —
