A Cavort
A portal to infinity?
Pray tell it's cardinality?
As Cantor taught of heirarchy
the goal besought falls short.
Immortal highest entity?
From which low unswart Chort sprang he?
We're caught in clear tautology;
all's nought and all's for aught.
No thwarting flow of entropy,
comport oneself with harmony.
And thoughtful sport of poetry
is icing on the torte.
poem by Diane Hine
Added by Poetry Lover
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