What is this becoming of a “person”
Endless reflection or good humor?
Divine cosmology or mere accident?
Noun or verb?

This ulcer of life in the universe’s mouth
Interminable exploring of it with poetic tongues
What is this beating of personification, metaphors, with man-made creations?

How much of this jungle worthy of camping?
Which locations do I just sightsee?
Who are the beasts I conquer?
What are the baits I see?

All just a collage of memory.
All a blip, if lucky, on unforgiving clocks.
All “person” a collection of subconscious
All life a long laugh.