in which we challenge the precept

that our thoughts have meaning

and that everything that happens

in the world

has some relation

to the things we thought about it;

the law of expectations,

in which there are three cases,

if we expect that an event will be

enjoyable, it will disappoint us;

if we expect that an event will be

boring, we will be pleasantly surprised;

if we believe that we have thought through

all possible permutations

then the universe will find a way

to surprise us.

in which we challenge the idea

that our thoughts have some bearing

on the world; the word of God,

the heavy books in our hands.

we believe it will be hard,

so it will be.

we believe it will be easy,

so it will be.

there must be some relationship–

find it!

scour the collection of

data amassed

from feverish memory

encodings, pencil

shavings, yellow-green

hoodies, when we

get home, we will

expect to see the same

ice cream in the

freezer.



in which we strip the raft

of its roping, spring a

leak in the buoy, and

float out to sea.

little surprise it is, then,

how unmoored we feel

when life appears to

pass us by. when events

come and go without

a heavy dosage of

meaning. when we do not

look back at the house

and think to ourselves,

“this will be the last time

I see the house from

this angle, and it will

be locked in my memory

in this form forever, and

it is going to mean

something,

it is going to contain my

past, my solemnity,

my sorrow at how

it went, how I will

not get it back, etched

in mossy blue-green.”



in which we consider

that our thoughts

may not mean

anything.



the place that contains the list of the containers of words