Holes

There's a hole in my mind
where the world seeps in.
A filtered unknown
infiltrating a closed
system.

There's a hole in my brain
where the facts drift through.
And in the heavens can you say
what allowed them to fall
so far?

There's a whole lot of bull
to make a brain more spongy
than spongiform encephalitis.
The neurons having lost their shape
have struck out -
gone their separate ways to retire
far away from
the simmering sea
of questions:

where?
what?
why?

For there are no anwers
unless you go digging

and find the holiest of holes -

where you'll find emptiness
stuffed with 
lies, damned lies
and money.

A dissolution of non-particulate matters
not particularly mattering
as the tide rolls in and over
a dead sea.

A.J. Ponder

Another week, another poem, I hope you enjoyed it. I quite like this one.  Despite the fact that's it's an awful lot of words for the old saying, "follow the money"

Have a great week, and hopefully I'll have some exciting news next Tuesday. (Nothing to do with cats, I just wanted to add a cat picture, because why not?)


A.J.