Sure, I Know... I Think.

People often ask me

“Really? How can you be sure?”

I reach down deep for answers

But find nothing to procure.

I don’t know shit.

But that’s no pact; I’d like to find things out.

It’s just so hard to pinpoint fact...

yet,

Reason parries Doubt:

They dance so well together that you know it’s meant to be.

Each regards the other with keen animosity.

But neither wins and neither dies; they duel on and on,

Finding, in their fervor, middle ground to stand upon.

So even as the room looks clean,

My nose will smell a rat.

I’m sure of it:

I don’t know shit.

...But sure as heck know that.