Life is up and down
Like an elevator restless and listless
Forgetful of its purpose

Life is ever uncertain
Teetering on the edge of something
I cannot grasp what; not yet

Life called me on the phone
Only to put me on hold
After speaking in a robot monotone drone

Life is thankless and thoughtless
All our thoughts pour into cavernous silence
Absorbed by the walls of our cranial globes

Life for us means a wet and prickly planet
Infinitesimal, cosmically
Soaring on a charted path marked by a mathematical universe

Life is as yet undefined, only described
In well-meaning fragments
Shards, glimpses, of graspings

And despite this, I can't quite wrap
My head around it...