Nothing: A Shape Poem

  
     Below is a transcription for those attempting 
to view this on a phone.

Tho' train’d for the priesthood, I opt not to pray; 
I’ve got, Reverentially, nothing to say.
I blab not of brisot or mohels – oy, vey! 
I’ve got, Circumstantially, nothing to say.
I’ve penn’d not one scene of a long-promis'd play; 
I’ve got, Penitentially, nothing to say.
Do I utter 'Aidan' or 'Anthony'…? Nay!
I’ve got, Quinntessentially, nothing to say.
I chat not of COVID…not after today;
I’ve got, Influentially, nothing to say.
I gab not at conf’rences, say what they may;
I’ve got, Exponentially, nothing to say.
I jaw not at umpires (a loathsome lot, they);
I’ve got, Referentially, nothing to say.
Of suicide…? Nope! But let’s call it a day;
I’ve got, Existentially, nothing to say.