Life Is A Process Of Elimination

As eecummmings wrote:

"i am a shape that

can but eat and turd."

What goes (in) up

must come down. 

And we seem to grow,

advance

get better, smarter,

do more,

for better or worse,

but, inevitably,

the gravity of the situation

brings us to our knees

figuratively or actually,

'til, like Brando on his 

death bed, the question

comes: "What was that?"

meaning, life at all.

What is this, our 

continuing now alive,

our play in which our

truth is revealed,

hopefully, if we pay 

enough attention?

Do we want the truth,

do we seek it, or,

just a comfy chair

at the end of an 

imaginary rainbow, 

a brass ring

somehow always

slightly out of reach,

slightly always

ahead of ourselves?

Have we ever dared 

to ask ourselves

the overwhelming 

question, or, born

in the middle of tamasha,

did we just keep running

in the same direction

as everyone else,

because

it seemed the right thing,

the everybody thing,

and everybody can't 

be wrong?

For many certainty seems

to be assured....a dynasty

in China meant many lives

didn't change from birth to

death, so, why bother 

to question...which is why

the Chinese curse: "May you

live in interesting times."

Born in the middle of tamasha,

into an order that reeks of chaos,

into a world bursting at it seems.