Something Like Knowing Nothing

Nothing

I know is ever more than barely a fraction of the world. My life, my

knowing is but a single frame in the production of the universe.

I’ve heard

of a man with a storyless name on his wrist and his lips sealed.

I will never know him, only of him, because they say names

say nothing for their owners, but only for whomever chose them.

I know

of a friend I will never know because I know

I know nothing more than a third of a person whose remainder is fragments

of my own memories; I know only a version of a human I can never know

for certain.

I know of a Korea 30 years too old, but I do not know Korea

because nothing crosses that 6,690 mile gap except my black hair.

Nothing

I know I can know fully: I know love only to the extent of warmth,

fear only to the extent of disturb; hunger only to the extent of desire.

I know

that everyone has a choice about everything, but is it still a choice

if your diet consists of nothing but not-even-half truths and fear that

burns

like a military vehicle sitting in ruins, its insides littered with

pages from Winnie-the-Pooh, now burnt and charred (fluttering like wings)

because it was kept in a pocket near the heart and exploded like

love.

Somewhere, someone grows old without knowing 6 million people were killed

only 80 years ago. Stained glass memorials and blood-stained memories lead

to wet, stained cheeks just by someone who knew of; but they never knew;

never knowing

truth beyond perception, because I know even the most basic concepts can be

undermined in seconds. In knowing we know nothing, chasing to know

something, each answer to each question is never

enough

like how there is always the question of speak—knowing only of—or remain

ever silent; but what is the difference between silence and burning,

because both ways send the world in circles because history

says nothing…

so I will continue to know of, and of, and of, in the hopes that

the future will always know of, and of, and of—

because when we stop, 6 million people were never

murdered

because nothing everyone knows;

everyone knows nothing;

nothing everyone knows is

nothing.

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