These Questions

There's a poetry contest at school, and I was planning on submitting Our New Biggest Concern, but I thought I'd like to try something new. Opinions? Is this better than Our New Biggest Concern?

These questions are huge, bloated
and swollen, pregnant and leaking
loose ends, unraveled threads dangling
from the rubbery coiled ends of

These questions. Children falling
over the edge of a cliff, hanging
on, climbing up and over the edge
only to find a ticking bomb. These
questions are shaken bottles of
Pepsi, ready to explode, ready
to make you regret wondering at

These questions. Tap dancing on
your eyeballs, jackhammering on
your eardrums, freestyling through
the swill of your thoughts. Like
rumors, they latch onto truth and
spread their poison, you ask yourself

These questions. And you ask your
friends, your family, your god, you
ask the lady in the pizza place who
hated Nicki Minaj and has dissected
a human foot, you ask the toddler
in the frozen yogurt store who thought
there were dinosaurs behind the counter,
you ask because you need answers to

These questions, and you ask because
you need to hear someone else say
they don’t know, you need to relate,
to find community in ignorance. You need
unanswerable questions to lurk around
every corner because you need to not
be the only one who can’t answer them.

These questions are ghosts, they
are what becomes of answers when
they die.