The lines on the side of the road are always white,
Why not orange, it too is very bright.
But about that I really don’t give much of anything
Just a passing thought of passing imagery.
I don’t even care,
No not even a hair.
But I exist, I exist and am there.

I wondered about driving,
Not about that but about me,
And if I was a ghost,
Of some other existence
Lost in the roof of the trees.
So I talked to myself
Out loud in the car,
And occasionaly peered out the window
To feel the wind then assure myself-
I am real alive.
But the wind doesn’t care,
No, not even a hair,
But it exists, it exists and is there.

Everything got up and said
It was made of something,
Something other than fabrications and air.
I got up to touch everything ,to see
If I and it weren’t really dead.
But I breathed,
A deep inhale,
And felt I wasn’t.
Then I looked up and the sky vaguely appeared as order past randomness.
I muttered again my favorite and truest lie,
I don’t even care,
No, not even a hair,
But I exist, I exist and am there.

I sat at some wooden desk and looked at curtains
Of confusion and lace.
The world outside them
Was waiting to explode-
A grievous place.
I looked in the mirror, at my face,
Then wondered about screaming
And demanding some answer,
But it only came to this,
I don’t even care,
No not even a hair,
This and the world is bare,
But I exist, I exist and am there.

So many people are nice to look at
From the distance and the ignorant acquaintance,
Then they speak their mind and that is that.
They become just something that melts senselessly into the whole.
I want to meet a being who never melts and is more than nothing.
I also like to dream,
And dreams are fake, very fake.
I tried to make sense,
But words only came spraying without order
As only I could see the world.
I looked at the dead daffodils by me and said,
I don’t even care,
No. not even a hair,
My mentality is very bare,
But I exist, I exist and am there.

I stretched out onto a plate of grass
To watch the clouds that are hidden
And divine their hidden shape,
But the fancy soon passed.
If only I could see with my eyes opened and closed,
Then I would know something and meaning
And lieing would stop.
I would open up the cover
And uncover some words that said
Something that made a lot of sense.
Silence is real and it wouldn’t say over and over,
I don’t even care,
No, not even a hair,
But I exist, we exist and are there.

I stopped in the middle of driving
On the side of the dark street.
I thought it would be a perfect time to finally meet defeat.
So I rolled to the middle of the road
And screamed like I thought I would before
And like I thought I breathed and became
More than the jello mound jiggling at the others,
I realized the essence of my humanity and existence ,
And could see with my eyes opened and closed.
I saw God,
Not the every god, but the only God.
He said I care, I care,
About every limpid hair,
Because I am, I am, I exist and am there.

This poem doesn’t make sense
In any head
But mine.
That’s okay.
Like all the other poems it will after I’m dead.
When you don’t care,
No, not even a hair,
But still I exist on with God and am there.