I might have been
I might have been a well known academic
but that would have meant compromise
Somewhere not far from Zizek Peirce and Nietzsche
I might have died young as a superstar
+
There is no field that says whatever mine is
No degree for following these threads
There’s no reward for learning the casinos
and sensing more late than early could give
+
But I have no complaint about the outcome
Not liking fame I’d rather make believe
the things I think are maxims for a future
where stardom is for all with eyes to see
+
The wondrous thing about our wondrous teachers
who left and wandered, failed and scribbled on
is that they knew a bit of what the truth was
because it was already going on
+
The seeds of truth are buried underfoot
Even applause won’t reach it there
They sprout, they grow, they end as mustard trees
and softly say reality is all
