Doth Boggle

Fright, hesitation of the mind,


There is so much

We know about what we

Don’t know.

There is little

Satisfaction for the mind.

Unless it is made up.

Science reveals

We congeal

Befog with silliness.

We would take from books

Thousands of years old

Written exclusively by men

Who knew a lot about goats.

And precious little else.

Who believed in witches

And golems

And stoning.

Let us lie to one another

For it is not a lie if believed.

Once lies are accepted

Or unchallenged


Or simply a way of life

We deserve

To be boggled