I was sitting on the shortest stool
So I wouldn’t draw attention,
But you glided over like a tool
and began to ply your question.
What’s the use? I wondered, when
Uncertainty is the fashion?
A decent seeker’s going to find
Something now and then.
True and precious friends
Have seen the splendid garden ruined
By the seeds of all pop certitudes.
So then what do you do?
How do you submit your findings
To a jaded child of anarchy?