The whoness of me? br The whyness of questions? br The whatness of all this? br and then; br br the wheness of answers, br where is the answer? br In the nowness of now? br br I looked everywhere br and found nothingness br under a magic carpet br woven from golden threads of thought. br br What mystery in a ticking mantle clock br the meek and mighty enslaved br by such small hands that wind up youth br and spew it forth as shrivelled flesh. br br The shaft of sunlight br revealed the floating specks of dust br across an empty room br as they float on air. br br No one is here br only I, dust and light br as the clock ticks br from now to now; br br until it stops. br br The framed photographs smile br trapped behind glass br I smile and join them br knowing I am not really here br or there.