How Atypical You Are

By and large unaware of itself,
Everything. Sit by a busy road,
And the traffic is obviously

Up to many somethings, the drivers
Daydreaming or talking on their phones,
But the hills in the distance just sit.

The hills do not matter to the hills.
No entities are corresponding
To what you call the hills anyway.

There’s something messing with your senses,
And you have plenty of words for it,
But it’s not considering itself

Except in the strained, indirect sense
That you are part of it and, as such,
Could be said to be considering

The hills as part of the hills themselves.
But that’s stretched pretty thin, isn’t it?
A nearly sheer wall of basalt rocks

Stands where, as lava, it cooled and stopped,
But the rocks don’t matter to the rocks,
Universe unaware of itself.