spike the ball

I dunno I always suspect
knowing what's wrong with me
would be useless information.
It would still be wrong with me.
Hardly impressive or helpful. I mean,
if I find out what's wrong with me,
it doesn't make it "not my fault."
It's still my fault! It is a fault,
and it is in me, therefore mine. Anybody

saying otherwise will be rebuked
for their disgusting presumption,
and their weak-minded daring - trying
to divest me of any part of my own!

Yet I remain vigilantly curious, despite
the likely unsuccess and uselessness. I mean
rationally speaking. Why should there be
anything wrong? Let alone with me. The whole
situation seems arranged to prevent it, or
punish it at least. So I'm curious.

It's no reason not to know.
There is never a reason not to know.
Any info that comes out, count me in
on the know! I'm keen as spiked brass balls
in some murderous beach volleyball pick-up
game. I range the sand in wary response,
unconcerned in victory, indifferent
to points scored for or against
- there for one person and one
reason: to expose the flaws
in my strategy,
and if necessary,
execution.