Lipogram III: Push

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Lipogram III: Push

@2016, Olan L. Smith


Push is foundation of

All habitations. In our scrutiny stands Push,

No Pull subsists—

My writing platform is firm to touch but thoughtfully


I say to you Push is an illusion,

Such an odd thing,

It hoodwinks us into trusting that you occur,

And robust faith is nothing.


In our now, its atoms colliding,

Who guards downward dirt churning, an unbridling

Of mashing bits, drawing atoms that smash with gusto

To find a Higgs for a nano of watching, and just a hints of


A god of mass, an attractor that crafts us,

Why? Many days lost conning your spirit?

You, as cosmic void,

An illusion of a Joint Conscious Charm,


A visionary within a vision, an array of stains?

I ask, "What is Pull?" in this black void

Flowing against Push's Big Bang, and dividing

A vast castigation, a cosmos pushing out of nothing.


Is pulling strings and shrouds a yin without a yang?

What affords our body?

Do not risk all on this boson sought to push us,

Many thoughts abound as what forms a godly lack?

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