stoned, in ethics class*

a myriad of stars in the diamond heavens
could not light my way well enough to

tap-
dance
through the moral tarpits and
trip-
falls
required of intellectuals
to theorize, and puzzle out
the reasons, altruisms, empathetic sighs

as our fingers are tested in the silt-filled babblings
of philosophers, clear springs water now full
of sediments, dirt and

original
guilt
from the newest opiate religions of the masses.

communion hands full of
spaces and
pauses

in the struggling of the mighty
i.q. of the highest persons scraping out
the theoretical impersonalities of universes
that could have been
if not for our
ability to feel,
and love,

and dream.



*also in my senior thesis. almost completely unedited from when i first wrote it, in ethics class; i only changed the title.