Here's my contribution to nothingness!
I lift my glass to the North Star.
And while one Celtic fiddle plays,
And it's notes disappear into the night sky
Along with all the idle words spoken
But every human being who has ever lived,
I'll disappear into the trees
Beside the grotto where the sybil muttered,
And hike my skirt
And pee on the mossy loam.

Then I'll wander farther away from the party,
Unseen, unmissed,
And sit on the rocks
Stained by undrunk wine,
Covered by tiny shards of chalices
Where others before me have broken their good crystal,
Where others before me have sat
And watched the Northern Cross turn in the sky.
Did they, too, ponder the meaning
Of existence and nothingness?

-jenn