Low Numbers And High Stakes Poem by Noah Smits

No one has ever been conscious and female
No one has ever been conscious and bald
No one has eaten an olive and liked it
No one has been to Nepal

I know this because I know everything
Which of course means I know nothing at all
Amounting, precisely, to everything, and
To be such everything makes me feel small

I figured it out. Can you take me now?
I'll carry the world all along in my head
That's where it's been since 1998
Times will be simpler when I am dead

My sizzling chagrin cannot alter the physics
My heartfelt desires don't mean I can make it
I woke up with stock and I'm stuck with the business
It's done and it's over and no one can change it

Why am I under such vigil?
I see the blue sky and I shake with distress
Infinite yawning, mocking my brevity
My guardian eye, my great circus tent

The clouds of this world are unmoveable
I rest between pillars of infinite height
I look up in fear that they'll come crashing down
Stern, cold and grey through the blackness of night

I love solving puzzles, except when I don't
Clear sight is a myth and I'm haunted by haze
Time's constant ticking still presses me onward
For there is no sleep in the depths of the maze

Number three sends me to hell with my debt
Number two gawks at my fright
Number one leaves me marooned on the coastline
Right now number zero feels just about right