two absurdists walk into a bar, the fool ducks

kierkegaard is
the patron saint
of giving in
demanding a
leap of faith
settling on what
we are given
with no hope
of understanding
a placid herd
undulating on the
cold eddys of
forever’s
indifference
allowing yourself
to be comforted
by whatever will
eventually consume
you whole

i prefer my
philosophy
to be free of
entitlement or
obligation
stark slivers of
pungent truth
like life itself
a vast expanse
of broken dream
puncutated by
moments of
blinding beauty
sheer happenstance
with no need
for settling
just the knowledge
that nothing
nothing at all
truly matters
so be the type
of person that
you wish there
were more of

the difference
between
giving up
and
giving in
is two letters
and a lifetime
of wasted effort
as put forth
by kierkegaard
and denounced by
bukowski

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