Monday, September 22, 2014
The Promise of Philosophy
“If life's an orange crate, you keep going back
through yesterdays to find the future there.”
Jeannie answered as she always did: “Whatever.”
Her piercings a-glimmer.
He sang I dream of Jeannie
with the light green hair.
Borne like a vapor on
the slutty air.
It sounded pretty, so they tried awakening the Guru
to hear, but he was dead.
Next day they sacrificed a virtual dog to him online.
Then, the vital doctrines reasserted: “Life goes on!”
“Whatever.”
Labels: emptiness, future, Goth, guru, orange crate, Philosophy, piercing
