So far, I’m satisfied with ups and downs.
Why is it that up is always the same direction,
Even when up is down? My goal.

Why when I turn does left follow?
The answer should be simple.

I know why God created the gun,
Why the stars have to seem so close.
So what if my pen found these answers.
Who’s to say whether I’m the same as you,
Whether I’m allowed to wonder
Who,
Why?

Certainly not god:
What is a bee to a grizzly bear, except for honey.
Who’s to say whether the river flows,
or the astronaut breathes,
or a heart beats?
Certainly not the scientist,
For he is an ape.

Society:
The carnivorous thread which anchors me to reality;
Can I heal from its bite?

I am not like you,
For you belong to society.
But why must I be so ignorant,
So tangled in youth’s lattice?
It is but a dwindling thread to my toe,
And you must be 18 to purchase a lighter.

If I can expel my mind from my body, into
The clouds in the sky:
I will not come down from there
For on the taste of oxygen I survive.