There Is No

The Universe is an extravagant indian-giver,

Taking half-measures to be generous,

Always giving hints,

But stingy with the secrets.

There is no match for love as a sharp and glinting thing,

Which inspires the most light-headed high-mindedness

From those who do not know

That it will soon cut them low.

There is no mood more dangerous than piety,

Which has the arrogance to wage war and famine

Upon the mostly-innocent.

It hardly seems heaven-sent.

There is no emotion more beautiful than dread,

Which causes me to treasure every moment,

Whatever my motive,

However painful their leaving.

There is nothing in this world more pervasive than irony,

Which seems never to go unremarked

Unless it goes unseen.

It will always and never simply be.