Monday, October 18, 2010

The Philosopher's Howl

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, typing countless cover letters

Dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn, searching for the next adjunct position in business ethics

Who poverty and tatters and hollow eyed and high sat up smoking in the all-too-natural darkness, waiting for the next batch of papers on the principle of Universal Izability and the theological views of Aquanaut.

Who finds themselves wondering if the right action really is the one, of the alternatives available, that produces the most pressure

Who spent their last penny on an interviewing suit and a hotel room, only to find Eastern North Dakota Tech has cancelled their search

Who dearly regret forgetting to pack the whiskey

Who dream of metaphysics at night and teach applied ethics by day

Who published, published, published... and perished anyway






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1 comment:

Anonymous said...

What the fuck?