The World Is Not A Word

The world is…

Well, it’s a planet in a solar system in a galaxy

That’s made of some carbon atoms and whatnot.

It’s a thing, a somewhat smallish, smoggy sphere

That spins drunkenly about a ball of fire.

There are living things on it too

And they would probably like to be included in its description

But they really don’t do much but make more smog.

Ah! But wait— there is one thing more that they have done:

There are these things called words that they have made.

They appear on paper and screens and such

But that’s not what they are.

They vibrate through the air

And compose little dialogues in their creators’ heads.

And they made the world,

But they are not the world.

The world is…

Well, literally, “world” is just a word,

But words do not make the world,

Although they have helped make the world what it is.

Words do not make a state of being, they can only help shape it,

So they are only relevant in the past, you understand?

Words made the world but they do not make it

And the world is not a word.

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