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“The more one suffers, the more, I believe, has one a sense for the comic.”
    ~ Søren Kierkegaard, Stages on Life’s Way (1845)

There must be a reason
     The people who drive the saucers
         Don’t stop to talk
     That’s easy to guess
It’s a sort of embarrassment
     They can’t communicate
         With a straight face

The drive toward a technological civilization
     Ignored those respected for wisdom
         Who said there must be nothing left
     Once every day something is dropped
But pure existence
     Silence no thinking simply being
         Drawn to those most speaking thus
     Get to know them
Come to find out they’re still thinking
     All right
         About sex

A great institution developed
     The drive toward betterment
         Of the species
     Limiting its growth
To the sanction of its sacraments
     No impure thoughts allowed
         Drawn to those most speaking thus
     And get to know them
Come to find out they too think
     Even the more so
         About sex

A most dismal style of reject developed
     The drive to invent the technology
         Supposed to free everyone
     Or at least make lives convenient
Always focusing on the next achievement
     With hardly time to think
         Of anything else
     Get to know them
Even they are still thinking all right
         About sex

Any of these
     Given a chance to make it real
     They’ve got other things
Worth thinking about
     But pure existence
         Is hardly cause
     For ecstasy
Any more than saintliness or creativity
     Pretended to be valued more than the sex
         That’s pretended to be valued
     So far buried is the driving need
To love & be loved
     Could someone from the depths of space
Drive so deep?

    February 2018

Thanks always returns

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