I don’t have a name, you see.
Names give people person,
And I am a person, but not
One solid enough for man to touch.
-
I drink joyously of the overflowing,
And I have no thought for the morrow,
Save that perhaps I will regret this,
And I do not care. I look
And see her person, and she is flesh.
I have no reason else. I see, I
Want, I find another person,
Another one I can touch, one who has
No more definition than I,
Denotation without connotation,
Boundless because bounds
Would make I into a me.
-
I say this in the singular,
And words are meaningless,
So I do not sin, but
I lie nonetheless,
Or do I?
I am a Cretan, for 
I’s every word is false.
-
I have my eyes burn,
For I have nothing else for
Them to do. They are I,
And I sit here. I could be
Doing. But I am not.
This I  in-pleasures, not enjoys.
Flick, flick, flick,
I wanted to do something,
So I stood-sat-stared,
And stopped.
-
I am all that exists,
For I have no border,
And that which has no end
Encompasses all. I
Am therefore small.
I cannot be all,
But I do not know what of all
Is not I. I
Have no me to judge it.
-
I am doing, ever-doing.
Doing, boing, boing.
These words mean all the same.
I do, for I desire
Satisfaction. I’s body,
Fed. No me to
Have a soul.
-
I wrote
Haiku and sonnet.
Both rang. True.
False. I divided
By zero, and answered,
Seventeen.
-
I.
I.
Outside I-self.
I.
I hurt myself.
I cared not
If I cried. I….
Don’t. I’s body
Needed. Moderation, virtue,
Pain for future I.
No me here.
If some part of I,
Felt pain,
Maybe it was
I.
-
I am a person.
They tell I
This. I might, if I knew
What words mean,
Believe. Have they a me?
Am I they or they me?
People are I, and 
Persons….
Need a me.
-
I hear what sounds
Like borders. Something
That is, and something
That is not. I
Am neither. Not,
Is, divide by zero,
Apple.
Do they have borders?
I hear them laugh,
And I think,
That laughter is from
A me.
-
I…
I…
I…
You.
Not you.
The You next to you.
Above, inside. Exterior, bordered.
Drawing edges. I, bordered.
Me?
-
No.
-
You, not me, You.
This is a border with Truth.
Good-bye
(Hello)

Notes

The poem is mean to be read stop-start, herk-and-jerk.

The key to understanding this poem lies in distinguishing between ‘I’ and ‘me’.

This poem was inspired by post-modernism, a lot of stuff I’ve read or thought, and the author of Ecclesiastes who said in truth that all under the sun is vain in light of eternity (paraphrase mine).