The only revelations I ever receive are
Of how to:
Read relatives’ fortunes in rice pudding
How rats rotate in zero gravity.
With the risk of being ridiculed,
I admit that I only
That I have a role in this world
When I’m running.
Which I realize is ridiculous.
I’m not like Richard the third
Who ripped his way through all his rivals and even
The road to the throne.
Not that I’m ravenous to rupture any organs, but
I need a goal to relinquish this thirst.
I cannot rest
Until I have some sort of quest
To relieve my shattered nerves and
That my ramblings on this earth is
Or at least will be
In some way