Blind Man's Walk

You get there when you get there and any way is wrong.
It being equal, I’d rather not detail,
The things I’ve done to get here and why it took so long,
And all the efforts that were sure to fail.
My forward vision’s hidden by a veil.

Those chaos-spouting scientists will lecture you about,
How minor choices brought us here this way.
But all they want to clarify is theorems that they tout,
No wisdom that is useful for today.
They’re like a pack of jackals in their bray.

The bruises are like badges, I don’t notice how they gawk,
Except when I would stop to reckon cost.
The path is strewn with random turns just like a blind man’s walk,
Indirection’s wreckage over-glossed.
I won’t admit that I am probably lost.

Stuart Andrew Marshall Tanner