Small Hands

The totality of human knowledge,

A drop in an ocean of unknowability,

I know that we know nothing,

Odd that wonder is our common casualty,

But life moved on,

Triaged black,

Like the far corners of space

Unfixable, Priority forgotten,

Hemorrhaged into the collective unconsciousness

Of our cellphones

There is no moral to it,

Only the increasingly clear fact,

That despite everything,

We are blind and we are dumb,

Now we know that man knows nothing,

And if that knowledge doesn't save us,

It will most certainly kill us