Liberal Art Lament

Liberal Art Lament
Even though it’s foolish to jiggle
a convention that’s  convenient
as all are (convenience is why
conventional), & some pointy-
headed thumb-tack e-lectric
intellekchul saying “No! No!
Nothing but bare butt” will
deflate no conspiracy keeping
us together as if stalwart pioneers
exploring  frontiers yet
unknown …

(takes a pillage to raze a style:
might as well throw rice at rhinos
as tweak edges of the envelope,
shiver the timbers & raise high
new roof beam carpenters where
no whine is released before its
crime)

… it’s still worth while: the
tom foolery of a philosophist
who thinks he’ll reconfigure
the cave  because he’s been
out of it for some time, or a
Joe Fish flip-flopping in a
canoe presuming now he can
evaporate the pond right under
his very gnosis. 

That’s me in the mirror.
“Hey, you: you’re hysterical:
 all wet —amniotic for crying
out loud”  & the puddle don’t
dissolve just because I’ve been
hooked & hoisted.

It grieves me my alma matrix
uber alles after all is said & done
never the less the fool-ishness
it takes to raise a thumb. pull
out a plumb and say o look
what a good boy am I.