this poem doesn’t mean anything
really now, this poem doesn’t mean anything

you can delve past the surface
kick past the currents of stanzas
and line breaks, the arbitrary schools of diction
but you will find nothing
as this poem doesn’t mean anything

you can carve past my exterior
reach into my reserves
and seek the heart that once used to be mine
but you will find nothing
because this poem doesn’t mean anything

you will, however, be drenched
you will be dirtied.
you will lose your glasses in the sea.
you will cut yourself in the mineshaft of my soul
still, you will not find anything
not in my words, nor in the oceans and caves
as this poem means nothing