Mark well—the highest purpose
Is to have no purpose at all.
The sky will still be bracing blue
And the cold still shrink your balls.

For every fool who thinks he owns
The map to Kismet town,
A hundred Humpty Dumpty clones
Come tumbling to the ground.

Clearly, too much thinking
Is like rowing over a falls.
The highest purpose, Sisyphus,
Is to have no purpose at all.