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No know sense of infinitude (asking why not?)


       ~
noun: the state, the quality of being without limit, infinite


drew first breath, woken to the heart’s thankless task,

conscious aware, that the solved proofs deny infinitude,

yet, triumvirate of five senses, brain waving, a steadying thumping heart,

all asking why not?

can I will it?

the body’s parts convene, debating furious, some claiming
a sell-by-date cellular programmed, nothing to be done,
dimming of the day, a human necessity, the self-salvaging process

but a single cell, a mouse-sized squeaker, boldface stuns,
”feed me, moisturize, give me sleep + blue blood nourishment,”

the others ashamed of their festival of fear, knowing well
what has gone before, thought dreaming of infinitude, go silent,

while “why not?”
lingers in the lungs, the breathable atmosphere,

the senses spread the quest to every remote province,
with each continuing a chant grows ever louder,
a millennium of poems concealed, yet  awaiting conception,
all entitled
why not”reverberating.

<+>
7:36am 2022020
nyc everywhere
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2020
~
infinitude (noun): the state, the quality of being without limit, infinite

    
        ~
drew first breath, woken to the heart’s rpm thankless task,

conscious aware, that solved proofs deny infinitude,

yet, triumvirate of five senses, brain waving,
a steadying thumping heart,

all asking why not?

can I will it?

the body’s parts convene, debating furious, some claiming
a sell-by-date cellular programmed, nothing to be done,
dimming of the day, a human necessity, the self-salvaging process

but a single cell, a mouse-sized squeaker, boldface stuns,
”feed me, moisturize, give me sleep + blue blood nourishment,
I’m good to go in a forever Iditarod!”


the others ashamed of their festival of fear, knowing well
what has gone before, dreaming thoughts of infinitude, go silent,

while “why not?”
lingers in the lungs, the breathable shared, atmosphere,

the senses spread the quest to every remote province,
with each continuing a chant grows ever louder,
a millennium of poems concealed, yet awaiting conception,
all entitled,
why not”reverberating.

<+>
7:36am 2022020
nyc everywhere

— The End —