It's late, nearly half past one, and I'm here
You've gone to bed, and I'll be there soon, yes
Now what is there to say, what can appear
So many times. so many nights, I guess
I know more than you, that I must confess
Each line is a confession, speech is all
Can you defeat me in this meaningless
Pointless communication, possible
But unlikely, given the overall
State of the universe, the things that are now here
And finite matter, matters nonetheless
Meaning dissipates, disappears, dissolve
Into the ether, beyond my two ears
Becomes meaningless, oh so meaningless
Wed 28 January
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