Last minute decisions
over something deep
not planned for a decent future

we’re floating on the surface
of the matter without seeing
the abyss coming after us
everything’s going fast

too fast to have the time for waiting
and hearing the dashing voices
beside us
they’re ants swarming in and out
of their anthill
haunted by the noise of a domestic loneliness

while a question is whirling in our head…

Is it the meaning of life or its lampoon?