It’s easier to not exist
And yet existence does persist.
Although I cannot fathom why,
I cannot rest unless I try.

To wonder why or how or when,
Such is the way it’s always been.
As we orbit upon this ball,
It seems odd to exist at all.



After fifty thousand miles and five years as a hitchhiker, living on the road and streets in towns and cities across America, David Paul Behrens followed with a career as an over the road dispatcher in the trucking industry. He is now retired and living in La Verne, California. His website is

NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here.

6 Responses

  1. Leo Zoutewelle

    Your poem is light-hearted and clever as well as deeply thoughtful, David,
    thank you, I liked it.

  2. David Paul Behrens

    Here is another poem which relates to the Hubble telescope photo above:

    Washington Square Park

    Take a walk in the park
    Long after it gets dark.
    See people left and right
    In the glow of a light.

    With shadows on the street
    Of fellows whom we meet,
    Humanity comes alive
    In those who do survive.

    Noise of the city hums
    As the writers and bums
    Discuss the human race
    While flying through space.

    Hoist the bottle higher
    As we stand ’round the fire
    In the park, in the night,
    The universe in sight.

    David Paul Behrens

    • C.B. Anderson

      Strangely, David, the last time I was in Washington Square Park I saw no bottles being raised, but I was offered (for a price) some very aromatic hashish. Yes, the dude accosted me and held the stuff right under my nose. This was probably about fifteen years ago

      • C.B. Anderson

        By the way, David, I liked where your poem went. Existence is indeed one of the great mysteries.

  3. Peter Hartley

    David – very amusing, very short but with a good kick to it. It reminds me strongly of yesterday, upon the stair, meeting a gentleman who wasn’t there, who wasn’t there again today. `Written, I note, by one of your compatriots though I’ve not heard of him. The subject matter of yours was better.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.