The hell of it

After nearly seven decades
I still own nothing
Am sure of nothing.

Some god has granted me
The grace of ignorance
To go with my compulsive curiosity.

That’s the hell of it, isn’t it?
An irony so relentless
As to be hilarious,

And we, laughing to split our sides,
Tumbling headlong into sweet oblivion,
Or not; no one living will ever know.

One thought on “The hell of it

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