Written while being sat

written while sittin'

there is no one who waits.

the one who waited 

never was

Nor was content to assent

to what is.

nothing more than this exists

it is

found

and humorous

kind

no argument for or against rises,

 the wave tosses the driftwood.

12.15.2014  on being encompassed by nothing more or less

From time to time I am rediscovering pieces of written breadcrumbs on the trail to this moment. 12.16.2020