I’d rather know what I don’t.
I know did,
What’s all this won’t?

The alphabet I know I know
But what’s out there past Z?
The shapeless, shameless,
Nameless, blameless,
I don’t have eyes to see.

But then I’d know
And then I’d go
And write this same old poem.

So I suppose
I’ll just not know –

I’ll be glad to know that though.