(or lack thereof)
—I sit, genial in my
Unknowing, caffeine in hand,
as sweat Adorns brow.
furrowed, folded Between
the things I know, I am
and the rest is earth.

atop Her crust spans
many a:
mountain, desert, tundra,
city, forest, ocean.
each Piece—
twig, avenue,
novel, common-law
exist the things I

I have just been
Born into a mélange of
open plains, where ground
meets Sky
and crowded airports where
fireworks sometimes
catch Light.

A binary of my unknowledges.

I do not know the
dunes of the far East,
or the plateaus of the great West.
I know Not how to assemble
a clock, and make it
mean something,
or paint oriental characters,
with a natural
flick (of the wrist).

I have set out on a journey
to collect the Things that I
do not know.

It is when I
realize that there will
forever be things I know
not, that (what don't you know?)

I do not know
(almost) Everything.

But I'll spend my
days undoing and discovering
all the unknowledges

I can

and hope that
someday I can answer such
a question with the
coral stretch of a vocal chord
and a simple: