I searched for knowledge far and wide
But never was I satisfied
In Tao or Torah or Upanishad
In Gospels the answer was not to be had
Not from the Mother or the Son
Or the revelations of St. John
Plato, Spinoza and Descartes
Nietzsche or Whitehead, Hawking don’t start
To fill the yearning in my heart
Now it has occurred to me
How much better it might be
To be a Mantis, a Beetle, a Slug
Some insensate variety of bug
Just live and eat and breed and die
And never have to wonder why
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