Whatifs Poem by Charles Cross

Wayward when, with know in the air, drives
Forth the hairless cat, steadfast in mutual endeavors,
As why and whatever carouse deep in flimsy skirts
And panting chasms of whosoever and have-at-em's,
Deep within the arbiters of how and when and to and fro,
So I am left with therefore,
But the road growls "ifbefore" in abjection,
Then screeches. Man has a question,
"Am I? " I am connection,
Lost in lapsing signals of please and how-are-you.
But fear no whatif,
Kings-so-scared-and-scary,
Children,
Insects that fathom fellows for who and wherefrom.
Jars are empty till filled
With bless-you's and curses,
Victual meaning
For you-mean-something starved.
But fear not whatif's and their shadows
And the shadows of those shadows,
helpless and spitting continuity and coercion
For philosophers and drunkards,
Cheerleaders, the prom king and queen,
Shadows so innocent between flickering too-late's
Harmless, harmless whatif's;
Harmless I before I strike you
Dead!