The Carrot

These are serious questions we’re asking. To no one.
For no reason. Just asking. Deeply insinuates, we do not already understand.
If we took our conscious state as evidence, we’d know the secret of the universe.
It’s confused.
Sunlight is confused.
Hydrogen commiserated in the arms of oxygen.
It makes molecules of confusion.

If empty bare bones black space could speak it would sound just like me.
Scattered.
Incoherent.
Incapable of the task before it.
Attempting it anyway.
Great capital I It.
All of It.

The answer behind the question we’ve been asking in complete contradiction
of the true state of existence which, by all means, we should have taken at face.
From the start. If we knew, what would we do.

If there was nothing left to ask, why have we all been put to task.
The mere existence of an answer would negate the treasure trove of motivation
uncovered in an unrepentant state of childlike bewilderment and confusion.

Asking all the serious unanswerable questions. Full with so much expectations.
Hope. That this is not the way It really is.
Some better, clearer, simpler destiny must exist. It doesn’t.

It is a carrot dangled dangerously in front of the whiskered nose of a mule.

One taste.
Is all it takes.
And believe me, we wouldn’t walk again.
Not another step.

For Mankind is a stubborn animal.

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