The Truth Is

There are few remaining truths
Save very complicated basics
Dictated by residuals of a very big bang
Everything else is created
As something to do during refractory

We are all lonely deplorable and desperate
Teetering always on the razor’s edge of collapse
For most of our brief existence
Structures and systems are the hard evidence
Of indictable phonies

Yet through constant distraction
Periodic moments of intense beauty appear
Unsolicited and specially delivered
In undocumentable glory
Before our own private eyes

For the extraordinarily fortunate
Our variable ratio schedules
Reward just enough
To keep us in the game
The universe’s conditioning as blessing