These jelly-bellies
I'm eating
(stoned)
too fast and too many
as I did as a kid
eloquently persuade me
that Epicurus was right,
not in that pleasure
is "the meaning of life"
but that the famous question
specifying neither what sort of meaning
nor what sort of life
is absurd
and deserves an absurd reply
Similarly, the meaning of life could be "money"
"rhino-headed fan"
"Indonesian hobbits" ...
or possibly "rockets"
I like "rockets" a little
or:
I WRITE THEREFORE I AM
what do you think?
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