There is No Answer

There is no specific answer
it’s not at the bottom of a bottle
or at the end of a joint
it’s not in pussy
or in any of your life’s dreams

There is no absolute solution
not in the right-left games, or god games, or death games
the dare to yourself to stare down
the precipice
denying all gods or talk of souls
shouting ‘take me black infinite!’
and then pulling yourself back from the brink
to laugh ecstatically at your heartrate

There is no answer
not in the legacy you could have
not in statues built, books written, records broken
not in your personal progress, fears overcome, grudges let go off
not even in the things you know most profound;
the people you love, your respect for living things, the clarity of orgasm,
the tranquil quiet of a lake, not in REM sleep, the euphoria of a perfect chord change,
the smiles and laughs of the innocent, the striking vibrant colours of art

There is no answer
and yet as you search still
for a thing that doesn’t exist
you can almost hear
wise jesters laughing at you
anger rises for fear they’re mocking you

But maybe they laugh because they can’t find it either
and what a mess we are all in, and they laugh with you not at you
the only answers are as real as fairy tales
or more optimistically;
fairy tales are only as real as the answers