I think I think.
Does that mean it’s true?
That I’m thinking in and out of thought?
That a thought passes on and on and lights on one thing or another?
Or passes through them, comes and goes and vanishes forever?
If so should we capture it with a net?
Or is it some buzzer beyond nets like a metaphor?
A metaphor with wings and call it a butterfly?
It certainly isn’t alphabet soup carefully arranged over a long period of time.
I think therefore I go on and on swatting air.
Hoping a fly will show up that is more than just a substance.
Think of it! It’s more than a machine. It’s a pest!
More than a pesty thought too like the notion.
Something I could swat that would stay swatted.
Which brings to mind the possibility of swatting all flies.
How would you like that? A no-fly world!
I often wonder about that. The garbage would be alarming!
We’d need a slew of mechanical ants to remove them.
But what is them? Flies, mechanical ants or us.
How about all three? Wouldn’t it be lovely to accept it all?
Come what may? Why not? Robots eating carrots.
Such is the price of compounding life for that matter.
No, the only hope is to flit from one thing to another
with an open mind and a closed mouth.
And as the flies bounce off your face be eternally grateful.