Mere ignorance stands invisibly
In the place of what we could know,
As the blank spaces in a warehouse mark
The missing inventory that we would have
Acquired by now had we acquired it by now.
But while it is disappointing to walk to a certain slot
And find it empty of what should be there,
I contend that this is much to be desired to
Finding that space filled with a counterfeit—
For who will be keen to notice it for what it is?
And who will get rid of it?
And who will deal with whomever put it here?
And when all that’s done, the spot is still empty,
Just as it was from mere ignorance.
