Because he believes we are helpless to fate,
a blindfolded six-year-old Calvin
pushes off the hilltop in his red wagon
as he asks his friend the old question:
Why are we powerless to rush toward oblivion?
Though Hobbes is a tiger
that believes in free will, he knows
also that humans are stupid to consequence
and so covers his eyes.
The friends, one named after a theologian,
the other a philosopher, hurtle pell-mell
down eight panels of hill,
