The Way to Other People Lies Through a Void

Listen!

The Alone flies through the storm alone
To find another Soul
It goes through things an sich and in themselves
It goes through the blackest hole

Your reality is a mystery,
The bones of your face:
My emails overstress my misery
In ignoring yours they lack a certain grace

That’s because they’re not only going through the Web
To appear on your Teletype at the Embassy
They transit Kant’s less than a void and a vacancy
And hermeneutics are MY responsibility.

The kids I shall assume are alright like the Who,
And I am too, I am too.
And all shall be well (all manner of things) shall be well.

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