I search for being and everywhere find modality
The question is not the hoary one of subject and object
And in subjectivity resides at least one ding an sich
And what I am and who I am kowtow before how I am
The trees are green the grass is green the sea is indefatigable
I assert most assertively that here is a hand
The baldest cliche harbors ulterior motives
What is that crack I see in the floorboard before me
That is how is that floorboard the site of a negative excrescence
For the crack which presumably belongs to the floorboard
Exemplifies precisely how the floorboard does floorboard poorly
Or at best where the floorboard is not a floorboard
And I hate myself for ranting about the floorboard
It’s really just a plank on my front porch
I hope I didn’t give the impression that it’s indoors
I just wish I didn’t always have to hazard a judgment
Starting with spatial reasoning a skill I lack in spades
And why do I suppose myself excused from universal obligations
Starting with the accommodation of others’ sensitivities
Dirt is soil and a weed a plant situated where people don’t want them
No doubt must is the most onerous of auxiliaries
But imagining the world without it is the deadliest of ironies
But why must I fear what I only imagine