When I saw that my knowledge was terribly small,
I spent a few years in a library stall.
When that merely turned my brain into tar,
Then solvents I sought in the neighborhood bar.
I believe in God, though he's not seen,
As I believe in the sun on a cloudy day.
At night, I mostly believe in Edison.
Which way to search for infinity...
Out toward the universe, or in toward the atom?
Or stay home and let it come to me?
There are many volunteers for the fun part of passing on genes.
Fewer willing to hang around for cleanup.
My transient aches and pains are like uprisings out in the country.
Sometimes the troops are sent in. Other times a propaganda campaign suffices.
@jmcdonnell123
What a delightful, long squib - or should I say squibs within a squib. Love the way you are leaning toward poetry here and elsewhere, such as comments to Woe Wednesday.
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