VOID

The Void is not a place to flush your demons
It will not be cluttered with banished things
It is no home for the homeless,
No place for safe deposit,
No bin, no box, no can, no chute
The Void can't pass it on
You can't petition the Void with prayer
It just won't take your shit.
The Void is not negative space,
Is not something made of nothing.
It has no pull - it wants for nothing.
It will not accept presents wrapped in bodybags
It bestows no honor, recognizes no merit,
And it couldn't care less for conversation.
I am tempted to think it must laugh
When you put the thing out the door
Or move it to another pile
And say "good riddance"
But that is fanciful.
You can't tickle the Void's fancy with anything partial
And it doesn't dig what you mean by "substantial"
It is no retreat for ignorant armies
It is no Bodhisattva summer home
And it will not negotiate the terms of your surrender
It is unpolluted and would stay that way;
You may be slick,
But it is shining.