You wouldn't teach a two year old about
an Einstein formula, or Judgement Day,
nor would you think a NASCAR fan could spout
out Shakespeare, with panache, from every play.
Mall rats don't venerate the universe,
nor junkies give a mall rat's ass for joys
a sober mind employs, to kill that curse
which liquors up a soul, it then destroys.
Truths that your conscious brain is skilled to hear,
find grounding and a home. All else zooms by,
eluding your hijacker's eye and ear,
intended for some wise, more conscious guy.
The truth is infinite and far exceeds
the reach of Sapien's small dreams and deeds.